Abandoning Peace
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: First Class AU. Sequel to "The Other Option." After Shaw's attack, Erik joins forces with Charles and the CIA to protect his wife and daughters. However, as the atomic clock ticks down the strain on Erik's family begins to show. After so many years of living out the other option, abandoning peace has its own consequences. Canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

September 27, 1962

Erik walked out the doors and sat on the ledge. The balcony looked over the city, but he couldn't remember what city he was in. He could remember very little of the drive to the hotel actually. It was several hours away, and his blood had still been thrumming in his ears. His childhood nightmares had once again resurrected to haunt and torment him. He hadn't been alone this time though. No, his wife and daughters had been there too.

He closed his eyes and tried to visualize what they had seen that night, what they had been thinking when he finally stopped long enough to realize they were watching. Erik wasn't sure which was worse, having people attack and threaten their lives because of him, or the fact that he had nearly beaten a man to death while they watched. Anya had had a knife held to her throat, Susanna and Lorna had been threatened, and then they'd watched that. He couldn't imagine.

Then there was the question of his ability. He clenched and unclenched his hands. Oh yes, controlling metal. How could he forget about that in his list of sins for the day? His wife and two daughters had gotten a very good view of metal twisting and contorting to his will, an ability that he had tried so hard to keep hidden.

What had he been thinking, letting them see that? He wished that he didn't now, but he knew exactly what had been going through his mind. Schmidt, or Shaw as he seemed to go by, had tried to kill his family. He couldn't allow that, couldn't allow the merest hint of a scratch on them. Erik needed to destroy any threat.

Any mental reservations he'd had about doing so had been cleared away when his six-year-old daughter had been threatened with kidnap and death. Erik could only wonder at the affect it was having on his sweet little Anya. She was a gentle soul, just like her mother. The last he'd seen she was still clinging desperately to Susanna. He doubted that she would release her any time soon.

Then there was his oldest daughter, Lorna. There were still a few questions he had on that score, mostly because of the fact that Lorna had mimicked his ability. He'd been shocked to see it, and he wondered if that meant she would understand. It could arguably make things worse though, considering the fact that he was obviously to blame for her having it.

How long had she been able to manipulate metal? She seemed comfortable enough doing it, so it was probably at least a year. If she was any other person he would have thought longer because of the sheer fear it caused: God knew that he had been hesitant to experiment with it first. But no, his fearless daughter wouldn't have been afraid.

She had, however, reacted poorly to having her hair turn green suddenly. She had noticed it when, in silence, they had gotten into the car with the government agents who had offered protection. Lorna had leaned back and then frowned. One of her hands had grasped some of the green strands of her hair and she'd stared.

Her breath had come in short, choking gasps. He supposed that knowing that your ability was strange was one thing: seeing physical confirmation was quite another. Susanna had reached out at once and pulled Lorna to her. Anya had reached up too, grasping her sister's hand for mutual comfort.

Erik had wanted to say something then, perhaps tell Lorna that it was alright, tell them all that it was alright. He wasn't sure how, but he could still make things right. He knew that. One look at Susanna's face had been enough to stop him.

He'd leaned back then. Susanna was right. He'd done enough for one night. While her eyes had only confirmed what he already knew, it was still enough to cut him deeply. Susanna had every right to be angry, had every right to hate him. She had for years, but it appeared that she was only now realizing this.

Her understanding and love couldn't be limitless. Erik had known that it would have an end somewhere, and he'd lived in abject fear of finding it. Apparently he'd found it when strange people had come into her house and attempted to murder her and her children. It was perhaps the best last straw he'd ever heard of, and his mind had shut down to most of his surroundings when he realized it.

Would she leave him? As much as he hoped the answer was no, he knew that it was probably yes. Perhaps he still had time though. He could at least convince her not to go anywhere until they got Shaw sorted out. Whether or not she still wanted to bear his ring and last name, he wouldn't let anyone harm her.

He opened his eyes, looking out onto the stone street. He hadn't gone into the hotel room that night. Normally he would have rebelled against this. His family needed to be safe. However, he hadn't gone far. He was only a few doors down, and there was a SWAT team patrolling the hall. After their pitiful performance that night he didn't have too much faith in them, but he had enough to think that they would be useful cannon fodder until he got there.

Once they got to the proper facility, he would leave them. It would be difficult entrusting their safety to someone else, but he couldn't take them with him where he was going. Erik didn't trust the CIA to do what needed to be done. While Erik had had a difficult time dealing with Shaw, he'd been out of practice. He could go back to what he had been before, make sure that Shaw never darkened the door of his family again. Safety was the last, and most important, gift that he could offer them.

Someone was walking in the hallway. His eyes slid so that he could see whoever was approaching him, but he didn't move. The man who'd introduced himself as Charles Xavier came in, looking tired. He hooked his hands in his belt loops as he approached. Erik supposed that the cardigan didn't have any pockets.

"Trouble sleeping?" Charles asked.

Erik shrugged. He didn't feel like talking to a complete stranger about what was going on in his head.

"Me too really," Charles said, "The heavy military presence is rather uncomfortable."

Erik had to suppress a snort. Charles heard it though and raised his eyebrows.

"This is a skeleton unit, and it's not military. It's a group of armed specialists," said Erik, "I've seen real 'heavy military presence' since I was a child, and this isn't one."

"Yes, of course," Charles said.

He drummed his fingers on the ledge of the balcony. Erik crossed his arms. He had the feeling that the man next to him didn't often use unnecessary gestures.

"You want to talk about something or are you just wasting my time?" Erik snapped.

Charles gave him a mild look.

"Not exactly," he said, "And I don't think that I would trifle with a man who nearly killed our best lead. No, I learned how to stay out of those situations at school."

"It's unlikely that he'll talk," Erik snorted, "Not without measures that are probably too strong for you or your agents to stomach."

Charles gave him a long look, and then simply tapped the side of his head.

"I can read minds," he said.

A full memory of the night came back. Erik had been so absorbed in his family and what the future for them held that he'd forgotten about the man's voice in his head.

"Right," Erik said, "Find anything interesting while you were poking around in mine?"

"I wouldn't call it poking," said Charles, "I try not to intrude unless it was necessary."

"And earlier today was necessary?" Erik asked.

"Yes, I believe it was," Charles said.

There was a pause. Erik wanted to press further: he didn't want anyone inside of his head. However, Charles had been the one who alerted him that his family was watching. No matter how scarring it had been for them to watch Erik nearly beat someone to death, he knew that it would have been worse for the man to actually die.

Not that he was going to thank Charles for it.

"Have you ever…met anyone else like you or I?" Charles asked.

Erik turned so he could face him fully. As much as he didn't feel like talking to the man beside him, he was curious.

"No," he said, "I thought I was the only one. I didn't know about Schmidt, or Shaw."

He shook his head.

"You?" asked Erik.

"My sister," Charles said, "Adopted. She can change her appearance at will. She's a little older than your daughter. You'll be meeting her when we get back to the headquarters."

Smiling, Charles nodded his head.

"It might be good for your daughter to talk to someone around her age who's like her," said Charles, "It certainly helped me."

Erik laughed, the sound bitter.

"I didn't know that she could do that until tonight," he said.

Charles looked down.

"I am sorry that we didn't get there sooner," he said.

Erik just continued to look down. He wasn't sure if he had the words to express his feeling on the subject without fists. While he doubted that the SWAT team could have done much against the powers that Shaw had displayed that night, he hadn't wanted his family involved. He hadn't wanted them to know about his world. Now he'd lost them.

He shook his head again.

"You don't strike me as a government man," said Erik, looking over at him, "Where are you from?"

"Oxford," said Charles, laughing softly.

"And how did you get involved?" said Erik.

Charles didn't answer directly. Instead, he leaned over on the edge of the balcony. He looked tired again, but his eyes softened slightly the more he looked. Curious, Erik looked over the side. He saw the forms of two people walking outside the hotel, but they had just gone back in. He thought that he heard the click of heels on the sidewalk.

"Agents Levine and MacTaggert," Charles said, "That's an explanation in and of itself. You'll find that Agent MacTaggert is a little less reserved than Agent Levine. She's the one who cottoned onto Shaw's trail in the first place. She came to me with some questions about genetics, having seen Miss Frost's abilities, but found a telepath willing to work with her instead. Something of a bonus I think."

He grinned.

"I was then given some security clearances and shipped off to Las Vegas," Charles said, "Not for long though. We thought that he was going to stay there for a little longer, but we had to divert when-"

"When he decided to try to kill my family," Erik finished.

There was a silence.

"You don't want to have to deal with us, do you?" Charles asked.

Erik gave him a sharp look. Charles put his hands up.

"No, I'm not reading your mind," he said, "Just what I know about you. I told you that I knew what Shaw had done to you: it was in the forefront of your mind. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to see him now when you have a family."

Erik narrowed his eyes.

"Then you understand why I have to go," he said.

"Not really," Charles said, "There is such a thing as safety in numbers. Shaw has some friends."

He shrugged.

"Perhaps it's time that you get some too," he said.

Detaching himself from the railing Charles walked back inside. Erik watched him until he left before turning his eyes back to the city.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Hey everyone, I'm back! I have to warn about patchy internet again, sorry about this, but I'll try to keep all of my updates on their usual schedule. _


	2. Chapter 2

September 28, 1962

Lorna felt cold, her thoughts running a million miles in her head. That night she had seen the violence, seen the confusion, and she'd known that she could do something. Her father had taught her that she shouldn't stand by and let the children at school push her around, that she should defend her family if they were ever threatened.

Her mother had told her that her sister looked up to her, and to take care of her. While neither Lorna nor her father had ever told her mother that Lorna had gone for a knife when their house had nearly been broken into, she knew that she understood her mother's request. Her mother might be too gentle to think of things like that, but Lorna knew that her mother was willing to do anything for them. Lorna had to be willing to do that too.

However, being prepared to do those things and actually doing them were different. She had done well with her ability that night, hoping to explain to her parents later. Seeing her father do the same thing had been shocking, and she'd wanted to cry out to him. Lorna wanted to ask why she hadn't known, why she had spent so many nights quietly crying to herself because she thought she was a freak when she didn't have to.

There had been little time for dismay or anger though. She'd watched his fist slam into the man again and again, watched his blood fly up. She'd heard her mother's weak voice telling Anya and Lorna not to look. It was perhaps all she could manage through the shock. Anya had obeyed at once: Lorna hadn't.

Her thoughts on the matter were lengthy and alien. She hadn't shared them with anyone yet. She'd wanted a little time to get things in order while they were in the car, but then she'd discovered that her hair was now green. The shock of that happening had been the last straw. Lorna had never been vain, but now being different couldn't be hidden. It could be dyed out, perhaps, but not forever. It would always come back.

So she'd begun to crack a little, and her mother had held her. Her little sister had reached out to her and they had been together. Lorna thought of her father, so close but so distant. Her mother's refusal of something, his comfort or voice perhaps, reached her ears.

At the hotel he hadn't even bothered to come into the room with them. He'd just walked out into the hall. Her mother hadn't looked after him, but set to getting the room ready. The CIA agent that the man with blue eyes had called 'Moira' had brought them some clothes to change into. The rest of their things had probably been blown up.

Her mother had, without a word, brushed Lorna's hair that night. Lorna was too old for this now, but she had acquiesced. She hadn't had it in her to look at her new hair color or even touch it. Green had once been her favorite color. Now she wished that she had never heard of it, never even seen it.

Anya had insisted on snuggling up between the two of them. Lorna couldn't blame her. Her sister hadn't been able to sleep at all on the way to the hotel. She passed out when she had been tucked in: her young frame too small to handle such little rest for so long. Lorna and her mother had stayed up for much longer.

With her sister asleep, Lorna found both the time and courage to speak to her mother.

"Did you know about dad?" she asked.

Her mother sighed. It was a painful sound.

"No," she said.

It was the reality of the situation summed up in one word. Her father had not told her mother about his ability. At first she could only feel disdain: hadn't he loved and trusted her? And then she realized that she herself had only told Anya, and Anya had seen her use her ability beforehand, forcing her into a confession. How dare she judge him when she herself had done the same thing?

Her ability. Lorna swallowed. She hated herself for the questions she wanted to ask, questions that she had to ask really.

"Am I…how do you…I'm…"

Her mother's hand had moved from its position on Anya's shoulder and touched Lorna's cheek instead.

"You are my beautiful daughter," she said, "And nothing will ever, ever change that."

Lorna swallowed, feeling the tears welling in her eyes.

"And dad?" she asked, "What are you…what are we going to do?"

Her mother's touch seemed to become heavier, almost as though she were being weighed down by the question. While Lorna had used the word 'we,' the real question was what she, Susanna Lensherr was going to do. Lorna already knew what she was going to do about the situation, but it was a very different question for her mother.

"Lorna," she said at last, "When I was fifteen my parents died. They were the only people I had loved in the whole world. Believe it or not, I was as unsociable as you are."

Lorna managed a smile.

"I was so shy, and I was alone," her mother said, "Then I met your father, and that changed."

Her finger moved further down Lorna's face.

"I have loved him for over half my life," she whispered, "He is so much a part of me that I think he is ingrained within my very soul. He gave me you, and then he came back to give me these past few years and Anya."

The hand fell limp.

"And, no matter what happens, what I do, what decisions I have to make…"

Her voice caught Lorna's heart broke a little more.

"…no matter what I have to do or where I have to go," her mother said, "I will always love him. That's the only answer I can give right now."

Lorna nodded, swallowing hard. Her mother closed her eyes, as though the very air had been unmercifully sucked from her lungs. She waited until her mother's breath had quieted, and then she got up. She tried to move as little as possible: she didn't want to disturb Anya. There was a difficult morning ahead of them, and she would need her sleep.

She had just put on her jacket when she heard her mother stir.

"Lorna, where are you going?" she asked.

"Just outside," Lorna said, "Not far. I just need some air."

Her mother looked at her with a worried expression. Lorna forced a smile.

"I just need to be alone for a few minutes," she said.

It was a lie, but it was one that might give her mother some peace of mind. She'd often said to her mother that she needed to be alone for something or another, and her mother had always trusted that that was what she really wanted. Other mothers might try to offer some sort of false comfort or take it as teenage moodiness, but not her mother. Lorna loved that about her mother. She trusted her.

It made her feel all the worse about the lie, but she didn't know how the truth would be any better. Her mother nodded and laid back down.

"Don't stay out too long," she murmured.

"I'm just going out into the hallway," Lorna said.

She took the spare hotel key and then stepped out. Lorna looked from the right to the left. No one was there. That worried her: she had seen the dead look in her father's eyes in the van. She'd been too occupied with her newly-green hair to really process it, but it was in her memory. He would have never left them after such danger in the past. He had to be nearby. Lorna pulled her coat closer and walked down the hall.

Movement from the balcony caught her eye. She stopped and peered in. Her father was standing there, his posture stiff. The sun was just starting to peek over the cityscape, although the sky was still dark blue. Lorna doubted that he'd gotten any sleep at all.

She walked out. Her father glanced at her, then turned away. She swallowed and stood next to him. There were words that she wanted to say, but they were caught on her tongue. It made her want to cry. She'd never had any problem talking to her father in the past, but that night had changed everything.

Finally she took a deep breath.

"I want you to know that I understand why you did what you did," Lorna said.

He looked at her, his face unreadable. She cleared her throat again. When had her throat gotten so dry?

"I um, when it first happened, what I could do," Lorna said, "I was walking home from school. Anya wasn't in school yet, so I was by myself. A guy had just hit on me: Mabel's older brother. The one who used to call me and mom names."

She shrugged. Her father's face was still stony and distant.

"I told him to pack sand, of course I did," said Lorna, "But I was walking home, thinking about how they were nice because they wanted something from me, how they act all superior when really they're just….and I punched a metal fence post in the backyard."

Lorna closed her eyes at the memory.

"But it bent around my hand," she said, "And I was scared, so scared, that I didn't go in, just went into the woods by the house and rocked back and forth for a long time."

She put her hands on the rail.

"Later I thought it was really cool, but I still didn't tell anyone," Lorna said, "And then Anya saw me do it by accident, and I made her promise not to tell. Because it was different. I was different. And some part of me was still hiding in the woods."

Her father reached out, as though to touch her shoulder, but he moved his hand back. Lorna bit her lip.

"I have a good memory," she said, "When those people tried to take Anya and I away, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw you walk into the house splattered with blood."

Her father whipped round, his jaw slack.

"You weren't supposed to see that," he said.

"But I did," Lorna said, "And because of what you did I got to stay with you and mom and Anya. And that's what you did again tonight."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Dad, if our places had been switched, I wish that I'd have the strength to smash that guy's face in," Lorna said.

His eyes widened and Lorna squeezed his hand tighter.

"I love mom so much dad," she said, "I love her because she didn't even care that I could make metal move or my hair's green. That she told me that I was beautiful, sincerely, without a pause. I love her because she sees the best in people, wants the best for people. Because she's gentle but strong. I'm glad Anya takes after her. She's the best little sister I could ask for, the best friend. We'd have a much better world if everyone was like that."

She smiled, thinking of her mother's quiet acceptance, her humble beauty, and her eternal optimism.

"But not everyone is like them," Lorna said, "You and me. And I hate that I'm not more like her and Anya. But I can help protect them."

She tilted her chin up. Something strange was flashing in her father's eyes, something she didn't understand.

"If you have to go after this Shaw monster, then I want to come with you," she said, "I know I'm young, but I'm also strong and smart. You know I am. He nearly killed the people I love tonight, and I'm not letting that stand dad. If you have to go somewhere else to do it, then I'll follow. And I mean it."

Her father stared at her for a moment longer before pulling her into a hug. Lorna hugged him back, more than a little scared of the future, but ready for it.

"You won't have to go anywhere Lorna," her father said, "We're going to be right here with these people here."

His voice lowered.

"No one is getting separated."


	3. Chapter 3

September 28, 1962

Moira wasn't sure what to make of the Lensherrs, and she wondered what she was going to tell McCone when he asked her for a report on the latest mission. Would she tell him the truth? She supposed that she was going to have to edit it a little. While it was true that they were taking in the Lensherr family as a kind of witness protection, she doubted that McCone would look kindly on housing a family of four in a CIA compound.

Platt had been the one to assure her that there was no problem when she'd called him. He'd been enthusiastic at the prospect of seeing a new mutant. She'd thought that it was best that they leave out the fact that Lorna was a mutant as well as Erik though. Erik didn't strike her as the kind of man who enjoyed other people making decisions for his family.

The family had seemed close when they first ran into them, but that had been under fire. Since then Susanna had become withdrawn and distant. Her oldest daughter had sat calmly through the remainder of the trip to Virginia, but Susanna looked as though the world was on her shoulders. She didn't look like that all the time though: only when she was sure that Lorna and Anya weren't looking.

Susanna had seemed aware enough: she had given very straightforward answers to Moira's questions. There were only three people she wanted contacted about their disappearance, the school, her husband's boss, and a woman named Ruth who owned the diner that Susanna worked at. Perhaps she was hopeful that they could all get back to their normal lives after this was over.

The sensible answers were given without any prompting from Moira, and this was quite impressive. She was thinking of what they would do after Shaw was caught in a hopeful fashion, but also being very practical. Moira had been through enough situations with people undergoing traumatic situations where they had forgotten about anything but the present.

All the same, she wondered what was going through the family's heads. She didn't know them well enough to make a truly astute observation, but Charles assured her that Erik was going to be joining their cause. Despite her own misgivings on a man she had just seen rip apart a SWAT truck with his bare hands, she had to remind herself that she was dealing with a different world. Gone were guns and knives. People like Erik, people like Charles, would be featuring very prominently in her life from now on.

When they finally got to Platt's center she'd shown Susanna and her daughters into two adjoining rooms. Originally she'd proposed three rooms, but Anya had told her emphatically that she and Lorna had always shared a room. The child was scared and furtive when she spoke, leaving Moira no other option but to aqiuiesce. She hadn't spoken about whether or not Erik knew where they were staying. She'd seen enough of the family to know that they were somewhat estranged.

She'd hoped to start looking at some data afterwards, or perhaps see what information that Charles had gleaned from their prisoner, but Platt had told her that they were taking care of it. He'd suggested that she show the other women around the center, and he would tell her if there had been any big developments.

Moira hadn't had a chance to argue back before he left, assured that everything was taken care of. Levine had walked up behind her and shaken his head.

"CIA Headquarters, here, some things don't change," he said.

She gave him a grateful smile.

"I'll tell you everything that happens," he said, "And I won't agree to anything before that."

He nudged her with his elbow.

"Standard procedure," he said.

Moira had laughed, although part of her reminded her that it wasn't really that funny. Still, having an understanding partner was more than what most women in her position could boast. So she'd waved and stepped back, resigned to wait this time. Next time she'd find something she could barter for her inclusion. That, for her, was standard procedure.

At least the tour was something to do. Susanna's daughters had seemed more curious about the base than Susanna herself. The eldest daughter had a kind of calm serenity about her that Moira didn't quite trust. The girl acted like she knew something that no one else around her did. That never meant anything good in Moira's experience.

Anya was more timid, but she still had the spark of curiosity that was so prominent in her older sister. She clung to her mother but looked around with wide eyes. It seemed like a close-knit family, and Moira once again wondered what all of this was doing to them. Perhaps they had talked amongst themselves, but she had no idea how one would handle a situation like this.

Still, she tried to be as friendly as possible showing them around the center. Lorna began to pull on her hair every now and then, almost as though she was unconscious that she was doing it. Anya kept glancing at it, seemingly fascinated by her sister's new hair color. Susanna didn't stare at it, but she seemed a little more listless than Moira would have expected.

It was only when Raven and Hank ran into them that things changed. She was walking down the other end of the hall with Hank. Hank was chattering away about blood cells and Raven was nodding, although there was an expression in the girl's eyes that showed that she was bored.

She perked up when she saw them. Her eyes rested on Lorna's green hair and she held out a hand.

"Hey, Charles told me we were getting some new people in," she said, "You're Lorna, right?"

Lorna looked down at Raven's hand before shaking it cautiously.

"Yes," Lorna said, "And you are…?"

Moira noted the slight hostility in Lorna's voice. Raven didn't seem to recognize it, or perhaps she chose not to.

"Raven Xavier," Raven said, "I'm Charles's sister. This is Hank. We're both like you."

Lorna withdrew her hand, cocking her head curiously. Anya let go of her mother's dress slightly.

"You can control metal miss?" she asked.

Raven laughed.

"No sweetie," she said, "I can do this though."

She pointed at Moira before morphing into her. Anya gave a giggle of surprise and Raven crossed her eyes before sticking out her tongue. Moira smiled, because if she didn't it would look like Raven was making fun of her. While she suspected that this was the case, Raven didn't seem to like her for some reason, it was only that way if Moira didn't laugh along.

Raven's skin flipped and she returned back to her blonde appearance. She supposed that she was trying to work up to her blue skin and red hair with her new acquaintances. It might be easier knowing that Lorna had green hair. It might even be good for Raven, although probably not as good as it would be for Lorna, if they were friends. There was probably a lot to be learned between the two of them.

"Interesting," Lorna said.

She looked over at Hank.

"You?" she asked.

The hostility was a little less pronounced, but he blushed and looked away. Raven just laughed.

"Hank's just a little shy," she said, "Come on."

"I can't really do it here," said Hank, "I uh, I'd just kind of be taking off my shoes and it's not really that interesting."

"Why?" Lorna said, "What is it about your feet that's different?"

She walked up to him, her hands in her pockets. Hank took a step back.

"I don't bite," Lorna said.

She paused.

"Not unless I'm in a fight," she said.

"That's really not helping," Hank said.

Susanna stepped forward, giving a gentle smile.

"My daughter has a habit of speaking her mind. Some people don't like it," Susanna said, "That's all."

Her smile widened and Hank blinked a few times. Moira had to stop and stare at the woman next to her. Gone was the timidity. It had been replaced with sincere, caring interest. Raven was giving Susanna an intense look, and Moira could see that it wasn't completely positive.

However, it seemed to be working on Hank. As she watched he slowly began to take off his shoes. His muscled feet clawed at the floor. Anya gave a little gasp and Lorna crossed her arms. Hank began blushing even harder.

"You've got hand-feet!" Anya proclaimed.

His face flamed and Moira could see him edge towards his shoes.

"Anya," Susanna said.

"No, it's okay. It's weird," said Hank.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Susanna said, "It would certainly be a boring world if we were all alike."

Moira had to raise her eyebrows. There was nothing judging in Susanna's tone, no momentary pause as she tried to figure out what to say. Moira supposed that some part of her was still very shocked, but after what she had seen the previous night it was probably unlikely it could be topped.

Susanna glanced over at Anya.

"Now, apologize to Hank," Susanna said.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't mean it's bad," Anya said, "I wish I had hand-feet. I keep tripping. Hand-feet would help, right?"

"I do have good balance," admitted Hank.

"You only trip because you keep running places," Lorna said, "You need to slow down sometimes."

Anya let out a jubilant laugh.

"I can't be too slow," Anya said, "I need ta keep up with you."

Raven smiled and looked down at Anya.

"What can you do?" she asked.

Anya's face fell.

"Nothing," she said.

"That's not true," Lorna said, "You're a much better cook than I am."

"I mean nothing cool," Anya said, "Nothing special or awesome like Lorna or daddy."

Both Susanna and Lorna frowned at this. Moira was sure that they would have said something, but Anya's face brightened.

"But daddy says that I'm a lot like mama, cause he says I'm nice, and if I'm like mama I'm gonna be beautiful and perfect," Anya said.

Anya grabbed her mother's hand.

"Cause he says she's really perfect," she said.

Lorna's eyes flicked towards her mother. Susanna swallowed and knelt down by her daughter. Moira saw the pain there, and once again wondered about what was going on in Susanna's head. She obviously wasn't frightened by the mutations, the interaction that afternoon had shown that. It wasn't her husband's ability that had scared her.

Perhaps it was what he had done with it.

"Your father is very kind to say that about me," she said, "But I'm not perfect. And just because someone is pretty doesn't mean that they're perfect."

She smiled.

"Although you are a very pretty girl," she said.

Anya grinned and hugged her mother. Something irritable flashed in Raven's eyes and she turned away. Hank immediately began putting his shoes back on.

"Anyway, we were just going to the lounge to hang out," Raven said, "Wanna come Lorna?"

Lorna hesitated, but her mother gave a firm nod. She gave a hesitant glance after them, but followed. Susanna picked Anya up. There was still pain in her eyes, but Moira knew better than to ask about it. It was a private pain, one that, if Susanna talked about it, she would choose her time.

"Now then," she said, "I assume that there's more of the center that we need to see?"

"Yes," Moira said.

"And..."

Susanna closed her eyes.

"I was wondering, wherever my husband is, if you could tell him where my room is?" she asked, "We need to talk about some things."

Moira nodded. She imagined they did.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** I just found out that my internet is going to be cut off for the next three days. because of this, I decided to hurry up and post the next three chapters. I'll be back after that._

* * *

September 28, 1962

Charles knelt in front of the man they had captured, his lips pursed in concentration. He'd never entered the mind of an enemy before. He had, of course, entered unwilling minds before. It had been a necessity, either to himself or to Raven. Charles had had to read his stepfather and stepbrother's minds to see if they were going to hurt him or Raven. He'd had to change his mother's memories to protect His sister. It had been a matter of survival.

This was, although he was loathe to admit it, a combat application. He was using his ability to gain information from an unwilling individual. It made him feel distinctly uneasy, despite his bold proclamations to Erik. Considering that it was probably the only thing that was keeping Erik from killing the prisoner though, he felt that he could rest a little easier in that knowledge.

He knew that Erik stood behind the two-way mirror, pacing. Charles also knew that he hadn't been to see his wife or daughters during the day. He had watched them come into the building, perhaps to see if they were still alright, and then he had departed as quickly as possible. Charles had thought that he'd seen his eldest daughter meet Erik's eyes, but there had been no words.

The prisoner gritted his teeth. Charles sighed before delving into his mind. The man's name was Janos, and he was trying to break free from the restraints had been locked precisely to prevent him from using his abilities. He had also been blindfolded, since they still weren't sure how his power worked. It seemed to be keeping him in check but, again, it made Charles uncomfortable.

There were other memories floating to the surface of his head, but he could see their goal. Charles could hear Shaw's voice over it all, echoing in the head of his disciple. Shaw was calm, confident, and collected. It was the voice of a madman, detailing a plan to destroy the world to make way for the mutant race.

He stumbled backwards, his eyes wide. He got up quickly and straightened his sweater before going out into the hall. Erik, Platt, and Levine looked at him expectantly. Charles looked around for Moira. She was a calm, solid presence, someone that he genuinely knew that had discovered a new world while fighting a deadly threat.

Despite her own doubts, he could tell that she was on their side completely. Unlike Platt, who treated the situation with the giddiness of a schoolboy, she looked on it with the eye of an adult who wanted to make things work. Levine hovered on the fence, a man of action in combat but slow to make decisions.

Moira was the ultimate agent in his mind, everything that he had expected them to be. She was an ally and a friend. There were other attractions to her, he had noticed those right away even with far too many pints in him, but combined it made him want to be with her more than he'd like to admit.

She wasn't there.

"Where's Agent MacTaggert?" he asked.

"She has other duties," Platt said, "What did you find out?"

Charles noted the almost imperceptible way that Levine's face hardened at the comment. He'd have to look into this later, but time was of the essence. He told them about Shaw's plan, trying to include as many details as possible. Levine had begun the conversation taking notes, but his pencil stopped on the page.

"He wants to nuke the world so that mutants can take over?" Levine asked, "That's insane."

Platt shook his head, a dismayed look on his face.

"Insane, but highly dangerous," he said, "I need to…I need to contact my superiors about this. They don't include this in the manual."

"And how long will it take them to respond?" Erik asked.

Platt grimaced. Charles was sure that he didn't like Erik.

"As soon as they can," he said, "They'll definitely treat this as a priority-"

"Of course they will," Erik said, his voice sarcastic, "If they believe it."

"They will-"

"If you can scarcely believe it, then how will they?" Erik snapped.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed out of the room. Charles just shook his head before going after him. While he doubted that his company would be welcome, he would have to start somewhere with the angry mutant. They needed to stick together in a time like this, and Erik's prior knowledge of Shaw was invaluable.

"Erik, wait!" Charles said.

Erik gave an irritated sigh and turned around.

"You said these people would help my family," he said, "Thus far I've seen no evidence that this is going to be the case."

"Platt means well-"

"Platt is a fool," Erik said, "And Levine is wishy-washy."

Charles must have winced, because Erik cocked his head.

"Don't pretend to be naïve. I know you see it too," he said.

There was no point in denying it.

"Yes," Charles said, "But we need all the allies we can get."

"We don't need fools holding us back," snapped Erik.

"While I'll freely admit that both Platt and Levine aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer, they can work with us," Charles said, unwilling to show Erik just how much he agreed with him, "But Moira is clever and dedicated."

Erik snorted.

"I have yet to evaluate MacTaggert,but I doubt that they would listen to her," he said.

Erik's words brought him up short.

"And why not?" Charles said.

"Because she's a woman," said Erik, "Why do you think she wasn't in the room with us today? Why do you think she has to be paired up with a lumpy idiot like Levine?"

"That's harsh-"

"But true," said Erik, "People in power think that a woman has no brain unless she's married, and then she only gets to borrow some of her husband's mind."

His voice was venomous. Charles frowned and looked back. He wasn't sure exactly what had brought this on, but it had him wondering. Moira had been going off the books when she went to find him. He'd heard Levine mention that she had paid for her own plane ticket to England so she could talk to him. It had never occurred to him that someone as smart and capable would be treated that way.

Perhaps he was a little naïve.

"I see," Charles said, turning back, "Then we're going to need to be a little more assertive."

"That sounds better," Erik said, "Any proposals?"

"Hank, another mutant, designed a machine that Platt mentioned in passing," Charles said, "It's supposed to help us find other mutants. I know he wants me to use it."

"Why you?" Erik asked.

"He said it had something to do with brain waves," Charles said, tapping his head, "He didn't mention details, said that we would work it out later. He might want the go ahead from his superiors to further look into Shaw's activities, but if they say no, then I won't use it."

Erik tilted his head.

"That sounds good," he said, "But let's take it a little further."

"What do you mean?"

"If they say no and he doesn't go on ahead," Erik said, "Then we all leave."

"Sorry?" Charles asked.

"All of the mutants he's collected," Erik sneered, "I'll find another form of protection for my family. You take your sister. We convince this Hank to come. Anyone I'm missing?"

"Well, no," Charles said, taken aback.

"Then we're agreed?" Erik asked.

"We most certainly are not," said Charles, "What if he calls our bluff?"

"Then we leave."

"But where are we going to find these resources again?" Charles said, "Think about all the information that they have at their fingertips-"

"Which they are not using," Erik said.

He crossed his arms.

"I know that I might not be as smart as you," he said, "Or as rich and privileged. But the thought occurs to me that if you have the ability to do something, but you don't, then it's worse than wanting to do something but not having the ability. Do you understand?"

Charles's throat felt dry, but he did understand. Erik wasn't in the mood to make compromises for his family's safety. If they did nothing, then Shaw would easily win. They needed to put up some resistance, and if the CIA wasn't doing it, perhaps it was up to them to stop Shaw.

He looked around him at the halls before nodding slowly.

"Alright," Charles said, "I'll tell Raven to talk to Hank."

"That's your sister, right?" Erik said.

"Yes," said Charles.

He managed a smile.

"I do hope that Raven can meet your daughter," Charles said, "She's terribly hung up on her appearance and the sight of another female mutant, a teenage one no less, might help."

"Well, that meeting has already taken place."

He turned and smiled as Moira walked up to them. She was carrying a sheaf of papers and her back was ramrod straight.

"I'm glad of that," Charles asked, "How did it go?"

"Well enough," Moira said.

Although her message was positive, her face was unsmiling.

"Levine filled me in on what you discovered," she said, "He called Shaw insane."

"Something of an understatement," Erik said.

She nodded.

"You know, when, I was younger, I read a transcript of the interrogation of Dr. Zola," Moira said, "He was talking about the man history's remembered as 'The Red Skull.' The interrogator called him insane in the course of the conversation too. Zola said that the sanity of the plan was immaterial, and the interrogator asked why. I never forgot Zola's reply."

She looked up and met their eyes.

"He said that it was immaterial because he could do it," Moira said, "Do you think that Shaw can pull this off?"

Erik's voice became quiet.

"He's smart, vicious, and from what I remember, convinced of his own self-righteousness," Erik said, "Yes, I think that he can."

She tilted her chin up and turned to Charles. He understood the unasked question without reading what he was sure was a brilliant mind. She wanted to know if Charles trusted Erik. Perhaps it was naïve yet again, but yes, Charles did trust Erik. The man loved his family, and there was no way that he would do anything that might endanger them. He wouldn't take chances when it came to them.

So he gave a slight nod. Moira shuffled some of the papers she was carrying. Charles thought that he saw some of Levine's notes. He saw her eyes glance around subtlely, although he had no idea what it was that she was looking for. Whatever she saw or didn't see must have satisfied her, because she looked up.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Moira said, "So if anyone asks, I haven't. Bureaucracy can break down sometimes. If this happens, the two of you need to be ready to act. And when you do, tell me. I'm not having another Red Skull rise on my watch."

Charles felt his heart swell. He wanted to reach out and touch Moira's face or just kiss her, but Erik was there. To his surprise, he saw Erik's eyes narrow.

"Don't talk about it as if you understand. You don't even know half the damage The Red Skull did," he said.

"I suppose not," Moira said, her voice cool, "All the more reason I don't want it happening again."

Erik turned to Charles, and there was another unasked question there. He wanted to know if they could trust Moira. Charles gave him another slight nod, feeling odd in his new position of go-between. He hoped that he wasn't going to get another one of those looks that day. It was already strange enough.

"Alright," Erik said.

He leaned in slightly, and Charles cleared his throat.

"We've decided to threaten to leave if they don't come up with a favorable answer," he said.

"That's good," Moira said, "It's Platt's dream to make this work. And if you do leave?"

"We take matters into our own hands," Erik said.

She nodded.

"You know where to find me," she said.

"Charles does anyway," Erik said.

He began to walk down the hall.

"Your wife is staying in room 406 in the East wing," Moira said, "Your daughters are next door. She said she wanted to talk to you."

Erik stiffened, but didn't stop walking. Charles winced on his behalf, it would be a difficult conversation no doubt, but there were other important things to think about. He was, for the first time in a long time, alone with Moira. Charles turned to her and gave her his most charming smile.

"I need to get going," Moira said, "They'll wonder where I am."

Without another word she turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway. More hurt than he'd like to admit, Charles straightened his sweater and headed towards his own room.


	5. Chapter 5

September 28, 1962

Susanna was frightened. She felt as though the air she breathed was filled with knives. It had been that way ever since those men had invaded her home and threatened her children. She'd watched Erik engage in acts of brutal violence that she'd long known that he was capable of, only hoped that he would refrain from.

Then she'd watched him take apart the SWAT van with nothing more than a twist of his fingers, watched Lorna use the same talent. Erik hadn't told her about his ability. Neither had Lorna. Her daughter's secret was a little less painful though. Lorna was a teenager, going through what Susanna understood was a difficult time in her life. She would be insecure and, though her lack of trust did hurt, it was understandable.

Erik though, Erik she didn't understand. She could make no excuse. They had been married for nine years now, had known each other since they were fifteen. He'd told her how much he loved and trusted her over and over again. He'd told her that he was happy in his new life, and she'd thought that he'd given up his old ways, ways which had only brought violence and pain. Love was a great blinder.

She'd meant what she'd said when Lorna had asked her what she was going to do. She loved Erik dearly, and she couldn't see herself stopping that love for anything. It had been her light for the present, her hope for the future, a dull comfort during her years as a young, single mother, and the greatest joy in her life.

Love didn't make the decision for her though. She had let it make so many of the decisions when she was a teenager that she knew it couldn't be the only factor. Loving someone meant being honest with yourself, and to start she had to decide who she loved more. Was it her children or her husband? Her children would always rank above Erik: they had to. She had given birth to them and raised them. They looked to her for care and protection. They had to come first.

Susanna touched the wall for support. Her life had been so perfect. Of course there were bad times to it, she wasn't blind to them, but it had been so happy. Lorna might not be very sociable, but she was doing well in school and well on her way to several scholarships. She might grow up to be the first woman in Susanna's family to go to college. Anya was making friends and getting on so well with her Lorna. They were perfect sisters.

Erik and Susanna's jobs had been paying enough for great comfort. They had heat and hot water all the time. The house still creaked and it was a little small, but Susanna recognized it for the luxury it was. More than that though, she had loved deeply and been loved deeply in return.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. Each breath cut into her. Where was Erik? Had Agent MacTaggert told him that she wanted to speak to him? Surely he would come looking for her if he knew, unless he dreaded this talk as much as she did. They certainly had to have it, but she doubted it would bring joy to any of them.

There was a knock on the door. Susanna put a hand over her mouth, rehearsing the words that she had to say over and over again. She had to do this. For too long she had hoped and made excuses, only to be lied to in the very end. There was no other course left to her, not without compromising who she was.

She got up and opened the door. Erik was standing in front of her, his expression a mixture of nervousness and an uncomfortable seriousness. She moved aside, letting him in. He walked almost mechanically, and she shut the door as soon as she could. No one needed to see this.

"Anya's next door, taking a nap," Susanna said quietly, "Lorna's off with people her age."

"Moira told me," Erik said.

Susanna nodded. She sat down on the bed again. Erik sat down next to her, and she moved away.

"Does it repulse you that much to be close to me?" he asked.

She got up and looked away from him, hugging herself. She didn't trust herself to be near him. Not now.

"I can't…I can't…I need to say something Erik," she said.

She heard Erik get up.

"Susanna," he said, "What I am…what I can do, it doesn't change who I am. I'm still the man you married."

Susanna looked over her shoulder. As his words sunk in, anger grew inside of her.

"You honestly think that your ability would make me stop loving you?" she asked.

He stared at her, suddenly uncertain. The anger shot through her even more strongly now, burning and tearing.

"You did," she said.

Although she'd hoped to sound angry and indignant, it came out like it felt: a pained cry.

"Didn't you trust me at all?" Susanna asked.

"Of course I did," Erik said, getting up, "But…what I can do…I swear I didn't know it could be inherited. I didn't know that Lorna could get it."

"I don't blame Lorna for having this ability," said Susanna, "Just as I don't blame you. But you…do you remember the night where I took you back into my life? When I told you that I'd marry you?"

He looked down.

"No more secrets," he said.

"No more secrets," Susanna repeated, "Erik you kept this from me, and I suppose that it's not…it's not…"

She shook her head, her words failing her.

"You didn't think it mattered," she said.

"You told me that it didn't change how you thought of me," Erik said, "You told me that it wouldn't stop-"

"And it doesn't!" Susanna said, "But answer me this one question."

She drew herself up.

"Why did those people show up at our house?" she asked, "How did they find you?"

He clenched his hands into fists.

"I used my ability," he said.

"I thought so," Susanna murmured.

He glared at her.

"So you wouldn't have been with me if you'd known how dangerous it could be?" he said, "You just said-"

"I would have preferred to be prepared!" Susanna said.

Erik gave her a long look.

"You wouldn't have-?"

"Left?" Susanna asked, "No. But I would've taken measures. Erik, we have children!"

He turned away. Susanna had never interrupted this much before, but she couldn't stop. So many words and emotions that she had bottled up for the past day poured out.

"And that doesn't even haunt me half as much as what I saw," Susanna said, "For years I told people that you were good, that you just wanted to live a simple life with me and the children, because that's what you told me you wanted. But you almost killed a man yesterday Erik!"

"It would've been no less than what he'd deserved!" Erik snapped.

He crossed over the room to her. Before she could speak he'd taken her by the arms.

"Don't you see?" he asked, "He tried to hurt you! Shaw was going to kill you, I know him Susanna. I can't let that happen! You, Lorna, Anya, I can't lose any of you!"

Feeling tears well up in her eyes, Susanna reached up and cupped his face. Her hands were trembling, and the urge to take him in her arms and forget about the past pulled her in. It was what she had always done in the past. She wanted to forgive, to make the pain burning in his eyes go away.

This time though, this time she couldn't.

"There's more than one way to lose someone Erik," she said.

His grip loosened and his eyes widened.

"No," he said.

Gone was the anger, gone was the violence of his words. All Susanna could hear was a sharp plea, and it threatened to break her.

"Erik, I heard what Shaw said you did to the people who tried to take our children," Susanna said, trying to remain strong, "For a long time I thought it was a clerical error, that the bribe went astray, so many things. But that's why you wanted to wait one more night. So you could take care of things."

"Running away wouldn't have worked for long," Erik said, "Our children were too young: your health was too delicate. I couldn't have risked it."

"Why didn't you tell me that?" she asked.

"Because…" Erik said.

He trailed off, his fingers caressing the sides of her arms.

"I wanted to protect you," he said, "Protect you from the things that I'd done, the things that I'm willing to do."

"You don't trust me," Susanna said.

"Yes, I do," Erik said.

"No, you don't," said Susanna.

She shook her head.

"Erik, last night our girls were exposed to seeing their father fight and nearly kill several people," she said, "I could…I could live with that, if not for the last attack. I turned Anya's head away, but Lorna kept staring and I couldn't…"

She bit her lip.

"What kind of example are you setting for them, when you show them that resorting to extreme violence is the only way to keep their loved ones safe?" Susanna asked.

She thought she saw guilt flash in his eyes, but with her vision so clouded by tears, it was hard to tell.

"Lorna and Anya are fine girls," Erik said, "You had objections to me teaching Lorna to defend herself, I know that, but-"

"No," Susanna said, "Beating a man to death for no reason is not the same thing. Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch that?"

Erik bowed his head.

"This isn't the way Erik," Susanna said, "I know why you did what you did, but lying, concealing…Erik, even in the past. Beating an official into submission is not-"

"It was Albert," said Erik.

She reeled back, shocked. He gave her a bitter look.

"It wasn't an official, it was Albert," said Erik, "The man you poured drinks for, who asked you and Lorna how you were, he was the one who tried to take away our children. He was the one who bribed the officer."

"He…" Susanna said.

Words failed her. At one point she had considered Albert a friend.

"He'd always wanted you, and our marriage infuriated him," Erik said, "He manipulated, lied, and cheated, and he was going to take our daughters."

He shook his head.

"I should have killed him," Erik said, "I could have. I had the opportunity: no one would have known. But I said no. I drew the line. But he was the one who told Shaw. Sometimes abandoning peace is the only way."

His voice became low.

"There's nothing I'm not willing to do to make sure that you're safe," he said, "It's why we're here now."

Erik's hands made their way to her wrists and he pulled her hands off his face. He held her hands in his, rubbing the backs of her fingers with his thumbs.

"I can live with you hating me as long as you're safe," Erik said.

Susanna felt the tears fall from her cheeks at long last. Erik's eyes met hers, and she forced herself to meet them.

"I could never hate you," she said, "I think that I'll love you until I die. But…"

She swallowed. Her heart was shattered, and it felt difficult to stand. She needed to keep going though. There wasn't any other choice.

"Erik, it's not just me. I need to do what's best for our children," she said, "In the past, I would've said it was keeping the family together. But now…I'm not so sure now."

She bit her lip.

"I guess I just need to know one thing," Susanna said, "Are you the man I thought you were, the man who built a home with me, or the man I saw last night?"

Erik's hands fell limp around her wrists. The minutes ticked by in silence, and Susanna felt what was left of her heart shatter.

Susanna pulled away.

"Susanna-"

She didn't stop. Susanna didn't know where she was going, but she couldn't stand to be there any longer.


	6. Chapter 6

September 28, 1962

"-so then he said I could stay," Raven said, "And we've been brother and sister ever since."

Lorna smiled. It was a charming story, but she couldn't help but feel nervous. Although she had never gone too far into depth on the subject with her parents, Lorna was keenly aware of how awkward she was in social situations.

Her status as the school powder keg had been firmly established when she was in grade school. While she didn't think that she could be blamed for that, it assured that many children didn't want to hang out with her, or still saw her as an object of ridicule. She just wasn't someone that you ridiculed to their face.

It made sure that the other students would leave her alone. Oh, they started to pay attention to her when she had grown tall and curvy, when her baby fat had melted away. She hated them for that, hated them for changing their minds only when she had something that they wanted.

She had always expected that there was something that people wanted when they talked to her. Ruth was fine, and she knew that her family loved her without any conditions. It was why she cleaved to them so closely. They understood and loved her. While she was sure that not everyone she'd met was like that, everyone besides them she'd ever met was.

There was nothing that Raven and Hank wanted. No ulterior motive. Her mother had all but ordered that she go and meet them, or she would have run the other way. She still wanted to run away, back to Anya, her parents, and shut the door.

Not that anything was wrong with them. They were perfectly kind and interested. They had something in common with her: their strange abilities. They were eager to meet her, find out about her. Hank was in awe of Raven, and it didn't seem like Raven was going to make fun of her any time soon.

It left her in unfamiliar territory, and it left her a little more scared than she would have liked.

"He seems like a nice guy," she ventured.

"He is," Raven shrugged, "But he's kind of a...how do you say?"

She snapped her fingers.

"Overprotective, over-cautious, flirty know-it-all," Raven said, "Hate know-it-alls."

"Guess I should leave," Hank said.

"No, you're an exception," Raven said, looking up from beneath her eyelashes.

Hank blushed. Lorna supposed that Raven had been turning up the charm offense on the young scientist for a long time now. She supposed that she didn't have to try too hard anymore: Hank was completely smitten.

"But being a know-it-all has its uses," said Hank, "We know what we are now."

"And what are we exactly?" Lorna asked.

Hank smiled.

"Mutants," he said, "We have a mistake in our DNA strands-"

"I know what mutants are," Lorna said, "But I thought that it was just little things, like webbed toes and shit."

"Normally, yes," Hank said, "But we have some pretty big mistakes in our strands."

"Mistakes that end up giving us interesting quirks. So, when did you first find out about your powers?" Raven said.

Lorna cleared her throat.

"A uh, a guy hit on me who picked on me when I was younger," Lorna said.

"And let me guess," Raven grinned, "You used your powers to whack him into the next century?"

"No," Lorna said, "I just told him to go away and then got angry when I was thinking about it later. I bent a lamppost out of shape."

"I can believe that," Raven said.

She smiled.

"You don't seem like the type to take crap from anyone," Raven said, "Learn that from your dad?"

"Yeah," Lorna said, "He taught me where to hit so it would hurt the most."

"Think I know a bit about that," said Raven.

Lorna smiled. Despite all of her misgivings, she could feel herself start to warm up to them. They were different from the people she had met in her life. The closest person she could compare them to was Anya: kind and bubbly, but they had maturity than she did.

Her sister was, of course, six. Teenagers were different, although she knew that these two were even more different. They had been set apart as mutants, and they probably knew what it was to feel like they were alone in a crowd.

"Your dad did a better job on that score than mine did," Hank sighed, "Not that it would have made much of a difference."

He made a face.

"I didn't find out that I was strong until I was fourteen, and by that point I was too scared to do anything," Hank said.

"If they're still there, then I'll beat them up for you," Lorna offered.

Hank laughed and Raven cracked a smile.

"It'll be hard," Hank said, "They're in Illinois."

"I can take a plane," said Lorna.

Hank smiled again and looked down at his hands.

"I'm not one for beating people up," Raven said, "But I've been told that I have an acidic tongue."

She snapped her fingers.

"We can be like the A team," Raven said, "We go off and get everyone who ever made fun of us."

"Why would anyone make fun of you?" Lorna asked, "You seem pretty well-adjusted."

"Thanks?" Raven said.

Lorna laughed.

"I mean...you're not awkward like Hank, no offense," Lorna said.

"Call it like it is," Hank said.

"And you don't seem to have a huge problem with your temper, at least none that I can see," Lorna said, "So...why would anyone make fun of you?"

Raven paused and bit her lip.

"Well, when you can be perfect," she said, her voice soft, "And you make sure that you're not anything other than perfect..."

Her skin rippled and Lorna saw freckles. A ripple later the freckles disappeared.

"Then you find that that has some problems too," Raven said, "And constantly concentrating to keep up one look..."

"Wait," Lorna said, putting her hand up, "You don't look like this normally?"

Raven looked down at her hands. Hank coughed.

"Um, they called me the Manilla Gorilla back at my high school," Hank said, "And-"

"No Hank," Raven said, "I don't need you to defend me."

She gave Lorna a defiant look. Her skin rippled, the perfect creamy skin was replaced with blue scales. Her clear sky-blue eyes turned golden. Raven's beautiful, curly golden hair turned a short, hellish red that stayed plastered to her skin.

Lorna stared.

"This is what I really look like," Raven said, her voice snappish, "And, by the way, you should take a picture. It'll last longer."

Lorna made a face. Raven's tone reminded her too much of Mabel, and the judgment in her eyes was clear. She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking about her mother, what she would want her to say.

Even though her declaration to her father might mean that they wouldn't see as much of each other as she was used to, she had meant everything she'd said. She wanted to be more like her mother, even if she was going to have to go with her father. Her mother and sister were the people she wanted to protect after all.

"I'm just a little surprised," Lorna said.

She tried to make her tone level, and she thought that she did a decent job. Lorna had seen her mother diffuse numerous situations with that tone. Raven snorted.

"There's no call for that," Lorna said.

"Oh please," snapped Raven, "Don't be so self-righteous."

"I haven't said anything yet. You don't know what I'm thinking," Lorna said.

"Guys?" Hank asked, "How about we just-?"

"I know exactly what you're thinking, okay?" said Raven, "At least have the decency not to deny it."

That was it. Lorna had had enough. She grabbed a chunk of her green hair and held it out.

"If you haven't noticed, my hair isn't exactly normal," she said, "And no, I don't know if it'll dye back. It's not blue scales, but I know that there are things out there to be nervous about."

"Big deal," said Raven.

"I can say the same thing about your regular look," Lorna said, "Look, I know some people might be jerks about it, but we aren't all jerks."

"So you're the exception," said Raven, her voice sarcastic.

"I'm just saying that there are exceptions," Lorna snapped, shaking her hair, "Hank and I get it, but if you think that that's just because we're different, my mom didn't mind either. So stop playing poor little rich girl on me."

"What do you know about it?" Raven said, "You and your perfect mother."

Lorna let her hair go, her spare hand clenching into a fist.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Raven, you're going kind of far-" Hank said.

"You heard," Raven snapped, "You have a pretty little suburban life: I get it. You have the perfect wishy-washy sitcom mom, the perfect sitcom little sister. All I had was my brother. And yeah, it's getting difficult for you now but-"

"Shut the hell up!" Lorna shouted.

A lamp bent out of shape next to them. Hank eyed it nervously, but she was past caring.

"What do I know? What do you know?" Lorna said, "You're right, I have a good family. A good family that was all nearly murdered last night because some lunatic thought it would be fun to torture my dad when he was a kid. Yeah, that sounds real fun!"

The lamp bent further.

"My mother raised me by herself for six years!" Lorna said, "You don't know shit about her or what she had to go through! She nearly died giving birth to my little sister. My father...never mind!"

She got to her feet, glaring down at Raven.

"You don't know anything about me. I don't know anything about you, but at least I gave you the benefit of the doubt," Lorna said, "So, maybe next time, instead of staring off the conversation like a bitch, you'll wait until the end."

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. Flicking her wrists she made the doors open for her. It wasn't until she was halfway down the hall that she replayed the conversation. She could feel angry tears building up in her eyes, and she cursed herself. Why couldn't she be calmer? Why couldn't other people try to be patient and care? Why couldn't she just have a normal conversation with people her age?

Lorna cursed under her breath. Why was she bad at socializing? Her mother and sister were good at this. Why wasn't she? Why had she always seen the children as different from her?

"Hey, wait up!"

Lorna whirled around. Raven was running up behind her, her golden hair and blue eyes in place again. She looked awkward and clasped unclasped her hands.

"What do you want?" Lorna asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Raven looked awkwardly at the ground.

"Lorna, I'm not good at making friends," Raven said, "Real friends I mean. People I can talk to. Guys, it's easier. I mean-"

"Yeah, you might want to tone down the flirting with Hank a little," said Lorna.

The comment was out before she could stop it, although Lorna wasn't sure she wanted to stop it. Raven was a brat, and Lorna didn't have time for her.

"Look, I'm trying to apologize," Raven said.

"You're not doing a very good job," Lorna said.

"Neither are you," said Raven.

Lorna wanted to say something back, something that would cut her to the quick, but she stopped. Hadn't she been wanting another chance?

"You said that you weren't good at making friends," Lorna said, sighing, "Neither am I."

"Maybe we can figure it out," Raven said, grinning.

She put out her hand.

"Friends?" she asked.

Lorna grasped Raven's hand.

"As long as you don't insult my family again," she said.

"Agreed," Raven laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: _**_And I'm back everyone! Thank you all for being so patient!_

* * *

Erik sat in the main hallway, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. He had, of course, expected that Susanna would be angry. He had expected her to want to leave him, to take Anya and Lorna somewhere normal. Lorna had already vowed that she would come with him, and he knew that she would cleave to her word, but she would have to defy her mother to do so. He doubted that she herself had realized this.

He'd known it was all coming. However, hearing it had been a whole new type of hurt. Everything Susanna had said had been right: he'd lied to them all, put them in danger, and pretended that he was something that wasn't. He hadn't even been able to answer the one question that she had asked of him.

Who was he? Erik had tried so hard to be the man he should be. He'd been a good father: he was sure of that. He had protected his daughters, raised them right, provided for them. Erik wasn't so sure that he'd been a good husband, Susanna's constant patience stood testimony to that, but he had at least been a loving one.

Perhaps that was why Susanna was only considering leaving. Despite all of the vows she'd made, vows he knew couldn't hold up in the light of their latest experience, she had every right to go. When they were first married she could have never even begun to imagine this situation. Susanna was better than that.

What had happened to the life he'd tried to build for her, the man he'd tried to be? He'd worked so hard and so long only to fail now.

"Erik, good news!"

He glared over his shoulder. Charles was walking up, looking cheerful. The smile on his face died as he looked at Erik.

"Is…is something the matter?" he asked.

"No," Erik said.

Charles cocked his head and sat down next to him.

"I rather think there is," he said, "No mind-reading required."

Erik intensified his glare.

"I see," Charles said.

He tapped his armrest.

"I wanted to tell you that Platt said that the CIA gave him full control of the mission," he said, "I was hoping to begin locating other mutants to join our cause. Do a recruiting drive and cut Shaw off at his source. Moira is already going to be gathering information, so it should work out nicely. I'm going to use this machine, Cerebro I think it's called, to start our search."

"Good," Erik said.

Charles licked his lips.

"I was hoping that Lorna could be one of our first recruits," he said.

"She'd like that," Erik said.

"And you would be alright with that?" asked Charles.

"Yes."

"I find that hard to believe."

Erik sighed. The telepath really wasn't going to let it go.

"No, I'm not really fine with it," he said, "But she told me the other night that she would be willing to fight by my side."

His fingernails bit into his palms.

"That thought fills me with horror," Erik said, "I've managed to get her into a situation where she has to make a declaration like that, the little girl I've tried so hard to protect. She's only sixteen."

Pride and shame warred within him at the memory. He knew that he should praise his daughter for her clarity of mind, her willingness to act, her courage. Some part of him cried out though. She was his daughter, barely more than a child. How could he ask her to fight, how could he permit her? No wonder Susanna was considering leaving. God forbid Anya be forced to make that choice in the near future as well.

He shook his head.

"But I started teaching her how to defend herself when she was six," said Erik said, "I know that she's capable, but she's also headstrong. If I said no she would find a way to tagalong anyway. At least now she'll be where I can see her, following my orders."

There was a long pause.

"I hadn't thought about mobilizing children to fight," Charles said quietly.

"Of course not," Erik said, "You don't understand."

"Excuse me?"

"You told me that I needed friends, allies," Erik said, "You only look for allies in times of war Charles, and we are in a war right now."

Charles tapped his lips with his fingers.

"I was rather hoping to avoid that," said Charles.

"Too late," said Erik."

Charles nodded, his face reluctant.

"Perhaps," he said.

"There's no perhaps about it," Erik said.

"Fine," Charles said.

He took his hand away from his mouth.

"I have the feeling that this isn't what's bothering you though," Charles said, "At least not the only thing."

Erik glared at him again.

"Alright, you'd rather not talk about it," said Charles, "I understand."

He cleared his throat.

"But, in my opinion, whatever's going on with your wife can't be more than you can fix."

Erik whirled around at him, his face a snarl. Charles blinked, but a moment later he regained his composure.

"There's no need for that," he said.

"Concern yourself with your own affairs!" Erik snapped.

"It looks like our affairs are intertwined now," said Charles.

He folded his arms.

"Why are so damn eager to stick your nose in my business?" Erik demanded.

"Well, it's what friends, or allies as you insist on calling us, do," said Charles.

"Why the hell are you so eager to be friends?"

"Why are you so eager not to be?" Charles asked.

Erik drew back.

"Erik, there are a few things that we need to face," Charles said.

He held up a finger.

"First," he said, "I am not your enemy. Our causes, our unique condition, and, to some extent, our views, have put us in a position where we can't afford to be enemies."

He held up another finger.

"Second," he said, "I have known very few mutants. My sister was the only one I met before you. As I said before, we have quite a lot in common. Not only should we not be enemies because of this, we should be friends. We should be able to help each other."

Erik snorted. Getting points on friendship in an essay format was irritating.

"Third, I know why you are unwilling to trust me," Charles said, "I can tell that it's nothing personal. It appears that it's a very general distrust you have of others, from what little I've seen of you. I know that your family has been threatened in the past, and this makes you cautious even of people who seem harmless."

Erik placed his thumb outside of his fist. He was second away from punching the man next to him.

"Fourth, and most important," Charles said, "I care about your family."

This drew Erik up short. He narrowed his eyes at Charles, but more out of suspicion than anger.

"Why?" he asked.

"Quite a lot of why's in your questions," Charles said, "But the answer has two parts."

"You're subdividing again," Erik said.

"University gets into your blood sometimes," said Charles, "But you have a lovely family, and you have two children that you told me only moments ago that you don't want to get involved in this. You've been forced, albeit somewhat strangely, to allow Lorna into this. By proxy I know this means you don't want her younger sister involved. I can respect and admire that."

Charles began to look nervous now. He reached over to a nearby whiskey decanter, perhaps put aside for some of the higher-level agents' breaks, and poured himself a glass.

"The second part is a little more complicated," he said, "My father died when I was very young. He was a soldier during the Second World War, his unit was ambushed, and it destroyed my mother. While your wife seems to be much stronger than my mother, I know what kind of effect that can have on a family. I also know what it's like to not have a good family life, to want something better, to think that no child deserves to grow up a certain way."

For the first time he heard bitterness in Charles's voice.

"Rather than make me hate strong family groups, this has made me appreciate them for what they are," he said, "I don't want any family hurt when I can prevent it. Besides-"

His voice lost the bitterness and instead became cocky.

"I'm a teacher, or at least I will be when I get a position," he said, "This has made me rather fond of children."

Erik stared at him for a few minutes further. He didn't have any reason to doubt anything that Charles was saying. More than that, he had been a useful ally in the past. Erik had had exactly one friend since the camps, and that woman had become his wife. Like Lorna he had always had trouble relating to others.

Perhaps it was time to at least try.

"My wife is thinking about leaving me," Erik said, "Not a divorce, she's too kind for that, but a separation."

Charles nodded and then took a sip of his whiskey.

"I can't imagine that this rift was caused by a disagreement over mutation," he said, "I won't insult your wife by entertaining that thought. So what is this?"

Erik gave a sardonic smile.

"Charles, I didn't just bend metal that night," he said, "My wife saw me partake in an level of violence that I had made her believe I was no longer capable of. She had heard earlier that I had beaten and threatened a man who wronged us."

"That was extreme."

"You don't know what he did," Erik said.

"Alright, what did he do?" asked Charles, bringing his glass to his lips.

"He bribed a judge to take Lorna and Anya away," Erik said.

Charles stopped in mid-sip.

"That is...horrible. What could you have possibly done to him?" Charles asked.

"I married Susanna," said Erik.

"Ah," Charles said.

He took a sip of his whiskey and stared at Erik in expectation.

"I think she's worried about what I'm going to do next, or rather, who I am. She probably wonders what lies I'll tell to hide my face," Erik said, "She asked me if I was the man she'd raised a family with, or the man she saw the other night who lost control and almost killed a man with his bare hands."

He laughed, but there was no joy in it.

"I think she's waiting for an answer. And when I tell her that I'm the man she saw last night, then I think that's when she'll take Anya and leave. Lorna will tell her mother that she wants to stay and fight, which will break Susanna's heart a little more," Erik said, "She'll be torn, probably wish that she had left me earlier so that I wouldn't have corrupted Lorna like this. Then she'll stay in the compound until it's over, and then take the children home."

He shook his head.

"Probably," he said, "I don't know."

Charles swirled around his whiskey.

"What would you do in that situation?" asked Charles.

"Make sure that she's safe. I can live with her hating me as long as she's safe," Erik said, "She never deserved this."

It was his automatic response, one that he didn't even have to think about before saying.

"You can tell yourself that if you wish, but I don't think that that's the problem," sighed Charles.

"Enlighten me then," Erik snapped.

Charles put down his glass.

"You said that you were going to tell her that you're the man she saw the other night?" he asked.

"Of course," Erik said.

"Is that the correct answer, or the simple one that you feel obligated to give?" Charles asked.

Erik frowned.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"I'm saying that you should probably think a little harder on that answer before you give it to her," said Charles, "Because from what you've told me, if you give her that answer in haste, it will break her heart. You won't be able to take it back."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"This may be difficult, but giving her the right answer rather than the one you feel will 'release' her will be better," Charles said, "It sounds like you love her very much. I've never been in a relationship like that, but I'd say that you shouldn't be afraid to fight for her."

Charles got up. He eyed his glass for a minute before downing the rest in one. Erik continued to stare at Charles uncertainly. He couldn't possibly be right about that. Nonetheless, it had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, a seed that was rapidly growing. Perhaps there was light in all of this, if only he looked for it.

Charles put his now-empty glass down.

"I have to go try out Cerebro," he said, "The invitation still stands."

Erik nodded and got up.

"Why not?" he said, "It'll give me time to think."


	8. Chapter 8

September 29, 1962

"How did it go?" Susanna asked.

Her daughter looked up at her and smiled.

"They're nice," Lorna said, "Hank is a geek and Raven's a little stuck up, but they're nice."

"High praise from you," Susanna said.

Lorna grinned. Anya rolled over from her bed and propped her head up. It was times like these that Susanna was glad that her daughters didn't know the full extent of what was happening between her and their father. Lorna had an idea, a better one than Susanna would have preferred, but the word 'separation' hadn't been used yet. Anya didn't even have an idea.

She still didn't know what to do. Her mind told her that she needed to leave, leave before something else would threaten her and her children, before her husband lost control again. She knew that Anya still wouldn't go anywhere by herself after that night, that she cuddled up next to Lorna when she slept. She still clung to Susanna's leg whenever someone new came into the room.

Lorna was less affected, but that scared Susanna to an extent as well. She had watched a violent display and come away quiet and thoughtful. Susanna wished that her daughter would tell her what she was feeling, but Lorna had refused to speak on the subject.

Her mind was confused and she wished that she could have some sort of clarity. Somewhere she could hear a voice saying that she had been lied to and tricked, and for the first time in her marriage doubts were beginning to creep in. Susanna hated that because it made her feel disloyal, but she hated them more because there might be some truth in them.

It would be impossible to keep her daughters in the dark for much longer, especially if she talked to Erik again. The tragic outcome of telling them the truth was inevitable. But for now she had a few precious moments where she could forget that she might have to destroy her own heart and part of her soul in order to keep her children's intact.

"Can I come witcha and meet em next time?" she asked, "I liked Hank's hand-feet."

"Yes, but you should try not to call them that," Lorna said, "He's really insecure about his mutation."

"I hope he grows out of that," Susanna said, "He seems like such a nice boy."

"He's fine," said Lorna, "Raven's cool too, but she keeps saying that I need to do something with my hair other than brush it. Like curl it or something."

"I don't think we have a curling iron," said Susanna.

"Nope," Lorna said, "But she does, and she volunteered to let me use it."

She made a face.

"Not interested," she said.

"I am!" Anya declared, "I wanna have lots of curly hair!"

"You're too young," Susanna said.

"Aww! Am not!" Anya said.

"Mom's right. I'll curl your hair when you get older," said Lorna.

Anya pouted for a minute, before rolling over again.

"You're going to muss your hair," Susanna said, "I just got you ready for bed."

"Don't wanna go to bed," she said.

"Well I'm going to bed soon, so you'll have to," Lorna said.

Anya pouted, before grinning.

"Ten more minutes, right?"

Lorna nodded and Anya whooped, but Susanna could see that her daughter's mind was far away.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I um, I just heard that today Charles and dad used this machine to find more mutants," Lorna said.

The mention of Erik made her stiffen, her confusion and pain returning. She smiled, trying to brush it away.

"That's gonna be cool," Anya said.

"I think it will be beneficial to the program," Susanna said.

"Yeah, but I heard that dad's going to go away with Charles for a week to try and recruit them," Lorna said, "Soon."

"But I barely see daddy anyway," Anya said.

Susanna bit the inside of her cheek. A stab of pain was taking over her heart, and she wanted to cry. She had always hated being away from her husband, and now the thought of his imminent departure just hammered the fact home. Leaving him forever would cut her to the core. How could she allow that?

How could she allow a marriage without safety or trust though? She couldn't go on forever being suspicious of her husband's life, of wondering how or what he was doing. That wasn't a marriage, and she couldn't allow her daughters to be exposed to the elements that it would introduce into their lifestyle. She couldn't have another night like the one they had just had.

She reached over and stroked Anya's head.

"I know he won't leave us without telling us goodbye," Susanna said.

"That's not enough," said Anya.

No, it wasn't.

"Sometimes things just have to be a certain way," said Susanna.

She thought she saw Lorna's eyes widen in alarm. Susanna kissed Anya on the forehead.

"Now, go to bed you two," she said, "We'll talk more in the morning."

She walked over to Lorna and kissed her on the forehead as well.

"Mom," Lorna whispered, "I know what you're thinking. But please don't-"

"Goodnight Lorna," Susanna said.

Her heart heavy she left and walked into her own room. Once she was alone she started crying, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. Lorna's innocent ignorance, or perhaps willingness to turn a blind eye, was over. Anya's would follow. She would hurt them to protect them, hurt them all, and she would never really know if she had done the right thing.

There was a knock on the door. It was so sudden and unexpected that she almost screamed. She hurried to wipe her tears, to look at least somewhat composed, before opening it. Erik stood in the doorway, looking alarmed. Apparently she hadn't done as good a job as she had thought.

"Susanna, are you alright?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected," she said.

He paused and looked down. With a deep sigh he said:

"Can I come in?"

She nodded, barely trusting herself to speak. One way or the other, it was going to be over soon. She could feel her heart getting ready to shatter as she faced him.

"I'm going to be leaving day after tomorrow," he said, "Charles and I are going on a recruitment trip."

"I heard," Susanna said, "You should…you should try to find some time to spend with the girls before you do. They haven't seen much of you."

"They might not see much of me in the future," he said, "Might be a good idea for them to get used to that."

Dismay welled up in her. She looked up at him, and he sighed.

"It depends on what you say," he said.

Erik put his hands in his pockets.

"You asked me last night who I was, the family man, or the one you saw that night," he said, "And, after too long of a delay, I'm here to tell you."

She nodded again, her hands clenched behind her back.

"Susanna, I'm both," he said.

She looked at him in confusion.

"I'm not sure that I understand," said Susanna.

Erik held out his hands.

"I wish I could give you a better answer," he said, "But I have always been both. Even when you met me, when I was fifteen, you saw the violence simmering inside of me, the anger and the hatred. It didn't go away when I found you. You know that, and you know how ashamed I am that this…that I didn't have the power or the courage to give it up so that I could keep you."

He walked forward, his eyes still locked with hers.

"But there were times when it was redirected towards those who hurt you," Erik said, "Those who didn't…didn't give you what I considered to be a fair chance. When I left I tried not to think about it, about you, about the underlying anger at myself…and then I came back."

He leaned up against a nearby wall.

"In your absence, in the absence of any good in my life, that anger grew," he said, "And by the time I met you again, I had killed. You knew that I had."

"I'm not interested in the past Erik," Susanna murmured, "Only the future."

Erik nodded.

"I know," he said, "But there are some things…all of that anger Susanna, it never went away. It just redirected towards those that would hurt our family. I still don't feel sorry about what I did."

Susanna nodded, feeling her heart break. So she had been wrong. He wasn't who she thought he was, and everyone had been right: she'd been a fool to trust him. Feeling everything around her begin to crumble, she made for the door. Erik caught her halfway out, crushing her back to him. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, feel the pain and the helplessness in her, the desire that Erik not see her heart break.

"Erik let me go," she said.

"I can't," he said, "Please Susanna, please listen to me for just a moment more. I wouldn't… I wouldn't force you to stay with me against your will, but please, just a few moments more."

Susanna couldn't say anything: her heart was too full.

"I know that you won't approve of what I've done, of the lack of remorse I feel," he said, "I always hated Albert for wanting you, but I swear that that night was about our daughters, about keeping our family together."

"Erik, I know that you love our family, our children, and I know that you love me," Susanna said, her voice a sob, "But I need your trust. I need to know what's going to happen, if our children will have to watch what happened that night over and over, I need to know-"

She stopped, her voice choking and dying in her throat.

"I want to know if the man who's holding me is the same man I thought I married," she said.

Erik sighed, his breath on her neck. He was so close

"I'm sorry," he said, "I tried so hard to be the man that you deserved. Someone kind and good and-"

"Nine years ago I had that man," said Susanna, "I want to know if I still have him."

His grip seemed to tighten. Susanna knew that she should struggle, but she couldn't.

"I'm sorry that I lied," he said, "I wanted to protect you."

"Trust me instead," Susanna said, "That's what I want. Let me fulfill the vows I made when I married you, to walk beside you, to be your second half. Let's protect our daughters, and let's do it together."

She swallowed.

"I don't want to fix you Erik, I never did," she said, "But I wanted to help you, help you make the right decisions, think about what you were doing. That's what's going to protect our children's minds as well as their bodies. They need…they need you to do the right thing. I know that this fight with Shaw, it needs to be done but…I'm afraid I won't know you."

Erik's breath became harsh.

"Help me then," he said, "Stay with me. I promised to do right by you all, and this time, this time…"

His voice broke. She was crying in earnest, unable to even make out his face.

"This time there will be no more secrets. I can't promise that I'll always do the right thing, that I won't kill when I could simply injure, that I'll forget about lines that I shouldn't cross," he said, "But I'll try. Just…don't leave me."

His arms loosened. Susanna knew that she could push them away if she wanted, to leave. But she didn't want to leave anymore.

"I won't," she whispered.

Susanna turned around, pulling his head closer to hers and kissing him. His lips moved fiercely against hers, the arms that had become so limp suddenly pulling her flush against him.

"Stay with me," he murmured, moving away from her lips and beginning to kiss her neck.

"I will," she managed, one of her hands digging into his back.

"Forever?" he asked.

She felt the wall behind her and she leaned into it.

"Forever," she said, "Erik, I love you…"

His teeth skimmed her skin and she tried to muffle a moan. Her hands touched the bare skin of his neck and she felt his grip increase.

"I love you too," he said, "So damn much…"

Hours later, with her husband wrapped in her arms, Susanna leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"Erik?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Promise me something," Susanna said.

He pulled his head up and kissed the side of her cheek.

"Anything," he said.

She closed her eyes.

"Promise me that, when all of this is over, I won't wake up next to a stranger," she said.

He held her tighter, kissing her once more on the lips.

"I promise."


	9. Chapter 9

October 3, 1962

"That's five cities in four days," Erik said, "Even when I was hunting Shaw I never kept a schedule like this."

"We don't stay anywhere long enough to get jet lag," Charles said, shrugging.

He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the headache that was building behind his eyes. Charles had never had such a hectic schedule, but they were trying to get as many mutants as fast as possible. The atomic threat was still looming over them and, although Washington had been alerted, they would be hard-pressed to convince the public that sending ships down to Cuba to stop the Russians would only make things worse.

There were ways around this, but ones that would only by slivers of time. The public could be ignored to a certain extent, but all the policy makers couldn't. Even if it was possible to tell them all of Shaw's plan, not all of them would believe them. It sounded so strange when he recited it in his own head, never mind saying it aloud.

"We've found so many already," said Charles, "I knew that there must be mutants in the world, but I never knew that there were so many."

"It does feel strange," Erik said, "Thinking about us all, a kind of brotherhood, unknown to the world, unknown to each other."

"Until now," said Charles, "Once we're through with this, the world will never be the same."

Erik hesitated, folding his hands together. Since the beginning of their tentative friendship, the two had argued ideas back and forth. He'd been impressed by Erik's level of book learning. Charles had always known that Erik was smart, but the books he'd read had been assigned reading in some of Charles's university courses.

He'd asked him about it, and Erik had just shrugged.

"A lot of my younger years were spent on boats, trains, and planes finding Nazis," he'd said, "I'm unsociable, so a book was generally my chosen companion. You end up finding out about a lot of things that way."

Charles had taken Erik's word on it. For the first time in his life he'd found an invested person around his own age who he could speak frankly to about mutants. It was more than just discussion though: it was an in-depth and learned conversation. Charles hadn't had many of those on this subject.

He'd also never had a friend quite like Erik, but that had more to do with Erik's temper than anything else.

"Do you really think that that's going to go that well Charles?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" said Charles.

"Revealing ourselves to the world," Erik said, "Do you really think that acceptance will be that easy? Lorna has her whole life ahead of her. Anya might even show abilities one day. I don't want them growing up in a world that thinks they're freaks."

Charles shook his head. His new friend had such an ability to hone in on any cloud in a silver lining.

"Once we save the world, once they see what we can do to help them, acceptance is inevitable," said Charles.

"As you say," Erik said.

He leaned back.

"Is this the last city?" Erik asked, "We're running out of time Charles."

"And you're probably very eager to get back to your family," said Charles.

"They're both valid reasons to head back soon," said Erik.

"Don't worry," Charles said, "It is. You'll be back soon enough, and then your wife can tell me just how many turtlenecks you own and how I can burn them."

Charles grinned and Erik snorted. He'd seen Erik and Susanna walking together before they'd left. He hadn't run into Erik wandering the halls late at night anymore, which implied that there was at least one side of the bed welcome for him. She'd seen him off and kissed him goodbye. Charles could only suppose that they had made up. Whatever Erik had said about who he was had been what Susanna had needed to hear.

It meant that Lorna was solidly on their side, although he wasn't sure if Susanna knew about Lorna's plans to participate. He'd considered remarking on this to Erik, but he knew that he'd pushed his luck the last time they talked about his family. It was probably best to keep quiet on that particular issue and wait for it to sort itself out.

He liked to think that he knew when to be discreet.

"You're not being very discreet," Erik said.

"Sorry?" Charles said.

Erik inclined his head. Moira was signing some forms with the warden. She wouldn't be allowed to go much further, it was a men's prison and there were apparently rules about that, but they needed her there to validate forms. It seemed like the more they worked the more Charles hated a streak of sexism he'd never noticed before.

She had voiced her concern about inviting a convict into the group, but Alex's records seemed to reflect nothing but a troubled childhood. His entire family had died in a plane crash that he had barely survived, and then he'd been bounced around in the dregs of the foster system. While it didn't make his crimes inevitable, or excusable, it did make them more understandable.

He hoped that he would be proved right by his faith. At least Moira was still willing to trust his judgment.

"What about her?" Charles asked.

"You've been staring at her for the past five minutes," Erik said, "Care to share?"

Charles felt his face flame and Erik smirked.

"I didn't realize I was doing it," Charles said.

"So your eye is unconsciously drawn to her now?" said Erik.

"Yes, no," Charles said.

Erik chuckled.

"On this trip one would think that you would have more to think about than a pretty face," said Erik.

"That's rather hypocritical, seeing how I believe your wife has been in your thoughts quite often lately," Charles said.

Erik raised his eyebrows.

"In something of a mood are we?" he said, "Ask her out, but be warned. I have the feeling that she's a rather strong personality."

"I will do no such thing," Charles said.

"And why not?" Erik said, "Your sister says you have a rather healthy libido."

"Raven," Charles groaned.

Erik smirked again and Charles shook his head.

"She's not interested," he said.

"And how did you come across that conclusion?" Erik asked.

Charles gave him a bitter look. He couldn't think back to that night without feeling like an utter fool.

"I might have…imposed myself a bit," said Charles.

Erik snorted in a poor attempt to conceal laughter.

"That's what you call it?" said Erik, "Where I come from, we use slightly more graphic language."

"I bet you do," Charles mumbled, "But she wasn't interested."

"You seem a little injured by that," said Erik, "First rejection?"

"No," Charles said.

It was simply the first one in a very long time that he had genuinely cared about.

"Harsh language?" Erik asked.

"I read her mind," said Charles.

His friend threw his hands up.

"Well there you go," he said, "Not everyone enjoys having someone pry into their most private affairs like that."

"She told me to," Charles said.

Erik crossed his arms.

"Then I'm guessing that there was something very particular that she wanted you to see there," he said.

"Yes," Charles said, "Mostly concerning how, seeing as this was her job, any relationship would be highly inappropriate and incredibly wrong, and that she wanted me to leave her room that instant."

"You were in her room?" asked Erik.

Charles winced. He hadn't meant to tell him that much.

"Perhaps," he said.

"No wonder she said no," Erik said.

"Don't pretend to be perfect," said Charles, irritated, "I've done the math for Lorna."

As soon as the words were out, he regretted it. Erik gave him a cold look.

"I'm sorry," said Charles, putting a hand to his head, "I didn't mean…well…"

"She meant that much, hm?" Erik said.

His voice was still angry, but there was a current of understanding in it.

"Quick word of advice, since you were pretty liberal in giving me some earlier," Erik said, "There are some women that you can bed and leave in the morning, and then there are some you can't. Moira doesn't strike me as a woman of the first type. It's unlikely that she would have gotten this far in the CIA if that was the case."

"I know," Charles said, "I just…"

He winced, embarrassed.

"I just wasn't sure how else to proceed," he admitted.

Erik raised his eyebrows.

"Then maybe you need to figure it out," said Erik, "Try to woo her a bit, and not by shallow compliments that appeal to an ego like your sister is doing to that hopeless scientist."

"She's not playing around with Hank," Charles said.

He paused.

"I think," he said, "And since when did you pay such close attention to what Raven does?"

"When my daughter becomes friends with her," Erik said, "I'm just trying to make sure that she's not a bad influence on Lorna."

The edge in his tone was unmistakable.

"Raven likes to get out of the house every now and them, and I don't blame her for that considering the house where we grew up," Charles said, "Come now, you can't say that Lorna has never-"

"Been to a club, had a boyfriend, or had friends for that matter," said Erik, "While I'm not very alarmed about the first two, the third one does strike me as something of a bad thing."

He leaned back.

"Which is why I was happy to see Raven here," he said, "But I won't hesitate to shut down a relationship that I see as damaging."

"Thank you," Charles said.

"I'm not casting aspirations," Erik said.

"I rather think that you are," said Charles.

Erik held up a hand.

"Not right now I'm not. I'm just a little annoyed that Anya asked me what an orgasm was before I left," he said.

Charles almost choked.

"She overheard her sister talking to Raven. Anya thinks it's a musical instrument right now," Erik said, "I can't say that I know enough about Raven to make a judgment yet, it could just be youthful exuberance, but I am withholding it until I'm satisfied."

"Word of advice that I found out the hard way?" Charles asked, recovering and trying to banish the conjured mental image, "Telling teenagers what they can and can't do and just expecting them to go along with it doesn't work out well."

All of the headaches he'd had trying to guide Raven through her teenage years, years that weren't even over, flooded back.

"Trust me, I've tried," he said.

"Thank you for your advice," said Erik, "But Lorna is rather different from Raven. She'd listen to me."

"I'm sure," Charles said.

"Charles, Erik," Moira said.

He looked up. She was giving him a look that oozed business, further cementing his fears. Charles really had ruined things.

"They're ready for you," she said.

He got up, Erik close behind him. The warden, a frustrated-looking man with glasses, led them down the hall. Every now and then he would give them a disbelieving glance, as if to say that what was happening was beyond his powers of comprehension. Charles had to suppress the urge to laugh at a man who was so clearly out of his depth.

He didn't even know the half of it.

"This hell does the government want with a guy like Alex Summers?" the warden said at last, "I hope you're not planning on putting him with others."

Erik gave Charles a look.

"First guy I've ever met who actually prefers solitary confinement," the warden continued.

The warden opened the door, shaking his head. A teenager of about seventeen sat inside, wearing a tank top and the prison's uniform pants. He appeared as though he had been staring at his hands right before they came in, but he looked up immediately. He gave them a hostile look when they approached.

Erik gave him another look. This one was going to be a challenge.


	10. Chapter 10

October 4, 1962

Alex still didn't know what was happening. One minute he was sitting comfortably in solitary confinement, picturing for the thousandth time what his father would say to him if he could see him now, when government agents had shown up. At first he'd been worried that maybe the government had had an investment in that jewelry store he'd robbed, but things had taken a rather different turn.

Now, only a few hours later, he was in Richmond Virginia. That was scary, thinking about that. He remembered the promises of a full pardon, of a slate wiped clean, possibly a job, and the knowledge that he wasn't the only strange one out there. Alex had to pinch himself every now and then just to make sure that he still wasn't in the clink.

However, that's not what he'd said to Erik and Charles. He had, after an initial show of enthusiasm, calmed down and tried to play it cool. After living on bases for so much of his childhood, Alex knew that things weren't always as they seemed. The deal looked legit though, so he had signed up.

The English one, Charles, had asked him questions about his 'mutation.' Alex had always thought of it as something of a curse, but Charles had seemed eager to prove him wrong. He still wasn't sure that he got it. The other guy, Erik, didn't seem to get it either. Reading minds and bending metal were useful, and had multiple applications. All his mutation did was blow things up. Nothing could be created with it: only destroyed.

He'd spent a while trying to study his escort. MacTaggert, the CIA agent, was the kind of person he'd spent years trying to avoid. She was nicer than the foster system officials that he'd dealt with, but she still stunk of an office. Moira was a pencil pusher, and he knew better than to get involved with those.

Charles was nice, if not a little too enthusiastic about the whole mutant thing. He seemed like he was someone who wouldn't try to screw him over, but Alex had been wrong before, and it was best to err on the side of caution. Some people were better at playing innocent and kind than others.

Erik though, he knew exactly the kind of guy that Erik was. He was the one that you watched during a heist to make sure that they didn't stab you in the back or start shooting cops. If Erik was in a gang, then Erik would be the enforcer. No, you didn't mess with guys like Erik. Erik was dangerous.

The car stopped and Alex got out. He felt strange. There was a crick in his neck from the flight, and he kept wincing from being exposed to sunlight for so long, but other than that he was fine. He was wearing jeans for the first time since the arrest, and the hearing. Alex hadn't owned any suits and didn't have any cash to buy one, so he'd gone to court looking like a punk. Of course he'd gotten the longest sentence.

So it wasn't his physical state. He idly wondered what his father would think now, Alex being escorted into some high-rise CIA building to work for the government. His father had never really liked the CIA as far as Alex could tell, but perhaps he'd be happy that his son had taken a government job of sorts. He knew his mother would be.

Someone opened the door for him and he walked in, looking around. It was a nice place, but again with the officials. The sound of people in heeled shoes clacking down the hall filled his ears. He could smell paper and tape and he hated it. Alex could only hope that the living quarters didn't have that same lingering smell.

"Hey, you're back."

He turned and his eyes widened. A girl about his age came through. He looked her up and down appreciatively. Most of the guys he ran with preferred girls in skirts, but he could appreciate a good pair of jeans. In his opinion they showed off the legs a lot better than a skirt of modest length. It only really worked on a girl who had some great legs, and this girl did.

She also had green hair. He was a little surprised at first, but shrugged it off. Charles had told him that some of the people there would have physical mutations. No big deal. It matched her eyes and, in an odd way, it was beautiful.

She walked over and began talking to Erik, but most of the words went over his head. He had no clue who Anya was for one.

"Who's this?" she asked, looking at Alex.

He held out his hand.

"Alex Summers," he said.

She took it, but only shook for a second. The girl didn't seem to be one to want to touch for too long. No matter.

"Well, good to have you here," she said, "We've been having new arrivals all morning. Anything you want to ask about?"

He pointed to her hair.

"Nice look," he said, "Natural, right?"

"It's either that or dyed," she said, her voice sharp, "And are you really going to ask a woman if she dyed her hair?"

"No," Alex said, "I'm just saying that it matches your eyes. In a good way."

She laughed, but he could hear irritation in it.

"Cute," she said, "Real cute."

Sassy too. He grinned as she turned back to Erik.

"I have to go finish up fingerprinting with Levine," she said.

"Why do they have to fingerprint you?" said Erik.

"Standard procedure," Charles said, "They do it with all of their agents."

"They're not going to need to do it again for me," said Alex, "Mine are pretty recent."

The girl raised an eyebrow at him and he winked. While he supposed being in jail wouldn't score him any points here, it was better to make a joke of it.

"Hm," she said.

She turned back to Erik.

"You might want to go into the lounge after this. I know that Anya's in there," she said, "I'll finish up and go there in a minute. Sorry Charles, but I don't know where Raven and Hank are."

"I'll find them," Charles said, "We need to show our newest arrival around."

Alex winced. He'd been hoping to ask the girl to do that. There was one missed opportunity.

"Alright," the girl said, "See you in a few!"

She walked off and Alex grinned.

"Hate to watch her go, but love to watch her leave," he said once he was sure she was out of earshot.

"Sorry?" Erik said.

There was an edge in his tone, but Alex didn't pay any mind to it. He wasn't going to moderate his comments for a few delicate sensibilities.

"You know, you didn't mention that there would be hot girls here too," Alex said, "Might have accepted a little sooner if I'd known that."

Charles pursed his lips, but it was Erik who spoke.

"That is my daughter."

His voice was thunderous. Alex coughed.

"Uh, shit."

"Uh, shit is right," Erik said, "If I ever catch you saying that again, well, you're practically covered in metal today."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Imagine how much that would hurt," he said.

Making another face at Alex Erik stormed off down another hall.

"I had no clue she was his daughter," said Alex.

"Good. I thought you had a bit more sense than to make comments about a young woman's physique in front of her father," said Charles.

"No idea," Alex repeated.

"You should have asked her about her name, or her mutation," Charles said, "It's the same as her father's. I hear it manifested when a boy made a pass at her."

He gave Alex an appraising look.

"You should be grateful that you got off that easy," Charles said.

"Right," Alex said, feeling a little shaken, "Right."

* * *

Erik walked down the hall, still irritated with Alex. He hadn't doubted Charles's thoughts on bringing the young convict in. If Erik wanted a second chance for himself, then he understood that he had to be willing to give them to others. However, if Alex made another comment like that about Lorna he didn't think he was answerable for what he did.

He opened the door to the lounge. Anya was drawing a picture in crayon, and Susanna was reading a book. They were always together now. She looked up when Erik came in and smiled. Anya did the same and threw her crayon to the side. She raced up to Erik and hugged his legs.

"Daddy!"

He grinned and picked her up.

"Missed me?" he asked.

"Yes!" she said.

Anya put her arms around his neck and hugged him again.

"No strangling me," he said.

He walked over to Susanna and kissed her on the cheek. She put her hand on the side of his face briefly. It wouldn't do to be too affectionate in front of Anya.

"I heard ya brought a bunch of new cool people," Anya said.

Erik sat down, placing Anya between him and Susanna. She smoothed Anya's braid.

"They're called mutants," Susanna said.

"I think they're cool," said Anya.

She swung her legs back and forth in excitement and Erik smiled. While he wasn't sure how much faith he placed in the acceptance of the general populace, at least he had the acceptance of his family. It was something to go off of.

"We did recruit some mutants," he said, "Most of them are Lorna's age, or a little older."

Susanna frowned.

"That's awfully young," she said.

Erik felt himself wince. He supposed that now was as good a time as any to talk about Lorna. He glanced down at Anya. He didn't want her to be there, but he also knew that he couldn't send her away. Susanna had told him that Anya refused to go anywhere by herself after nearly being murdered. Lorna wasn't there to take her away, and she didn't trust anyone outside of her family enough.

"They want to fight," he said.

He braced himself.

"As does Lorna," he said.

"What?" Susanna said.

"Course she does," said Anya, "She wants ta stand up ta bad people and bullies. She said she'd give anyone who tries ta hurt me a knuckle sandwich and-"

"Anya, that's rather a bit different," said Susanna.

She gave Erik a hard look.

"I don't want my daughter turned into a child solider," she said.

"I'm not that comfortable with the idea myself," Erik said, "Give me credit enough for that."

She crossed her arms and looked down at Anya. Anya's eyes were wide and Susanna swallowed.

"Anya, your father and I need to have a private conversation," she said, "You should go back to drawing."

Anya nodded and went to the table. Susanna looked back at Erik.

"No Erik," she said, "No."

"If I don't take her with me she's going to find a way to fight anyway," Erik said, "You know what she's like. I'll find her stowed away in the back of a plane or-"

"I'm not denying that she's headstrong, but we can't just give into her because of it," Susanna said, "You can't protect her every moment out there."

"Have some faith in me."

"Erik, I've never been in a war," she said, "But I know that things can be unpredictable. It's bad enough that you-"

She turned her head away.

"I'm not having both my husband and my daughter fighting in this war," she said, "I'm not."

Erik reached out and turned her face back to him. He hated that he was arguing for Lorna's inclusion, but he knew that it was the right thing to do.

"I want her to be able to make this choice while she still has one," Erik said, "You're right, I can't protect her every moment."

The admission felt like bile dripping from his lips. He hated having to do this to Susanna, to force her to watch her child get shoved to the front lines. He had to take Lorna's part though, had to support her in this. Lorna deserved the chance to fight for what she loved. She was mature enough: he knew it.

"But if I take her with me, I can be with her," he said, "That's with something. She's headstrong, but she's also a capable, strong young woman. She knows how to fight, and when. She knows what's worth protecting, and she's not afraid."

He sighed.

"If the other teens are anything like her at all, then Shaw doesn't stand a chance," said Erik.

Susanna let out a sad chuckle.

"You're right," she said, "Lorna is strong."

She shook her head.

"And here I am, her mother, your wife, unable to help," Susanna said.

He kissed her forehead.

"You have helped," he said, his lips still close to her forehead, "More than you know. You and Anya give us something to fight for."

The door opened and Charles looked in. Erik leaned back as Anya looked up from her drawing.

"Mind trick man!" she said.

Charles laughed.

"Quite right," he said.

He ruffled her hair and Anya sat up on the table, looking interested.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, "But Moira just told me that they received word that Shaw is meeting with the Russian Defense Minister."

Flames curled around Erik's heart.

"They're sending us in," he said.

Charles nodded. Susanna reached out and squeezed his hands.

"Let me see you and Lorna before you go," she said.

"Of course," Erik said.

"You're going away again daddy?" Anya said, her voice pouting.

He tilted his head.

"Yes," he said, "But, with any luck, this will be the last time."

After all these years, he was finally going to get Shaw. The bastard would never touch his family again.


	11. Chapter 11

October 4, 1962

"We should think of codenames," Raven said, "We're government agents now. We should have secret codenames."

She gave a coy smile. Lorna leaned forward, glancing around the room. While she'd seen Alex before, and was making a point of not letting him catch her eye, the others were new. They'd introduced themselves, but afterwards there had been an awkward silence. The snacks had only done so much in smoothing over the tension.

Lorna should have known that Raven would be the one to break the silence. She was good at that kind of thing.

"I wanna be called Mystique," Raven said.

"Damn, I wanted to be called Mystique," Sean said.

Raven laughed.

"Well tough," she said, "I called it."

Her skin rippled and, the room did a double take as she morphed into Sean. Lorna gave her a small smile.

"And I am way more mysterious than you," said Raven.

The room clapped and Lorna could see that some of the other teens were eyeing her appreciatively. Raven rippled back into her blonde form, grinning.

"Darwin, what about you?" Raven asked.

"Well, uh, Darwin's already kind of a nickname," Darwin said, "You know, sort of fits. Adapt to survive and all."

He got up.

"Check this out," he said.

Darwin sauntered over to a nearby fish tank and stuck his head inside it. Gills opened up on the side of his neck and he turned to them, grinning. Lorna clapped and grinned too. There was just something likeable about Darwin that she couldn't quite describe.

He pulled his head out of the tank.

"Thank you, thank you," he said.

Darwin pointed to Sean.

"What about you?" he asked.

Sean folded his hands and leaned forward, deep in thought.

"I'm going to be...Banshee," he said.

"Why would you want to be named after a wailing spirit?" asked Hank.

"You might want to cover your ears," Sean said, getting up.

Lorna obeyed, looking at Sean curiously. He crouched down in front of their glasses and sucked in a deep breath. A strange, shrieking sound made Lorna wince, and the window in front of them shattered.

Laughter rippled around the room and Lorna stared at the window in dismay.

"They're going to be pissed about that," she said.

"It's just a window," said Alex, "Government's got plenty of money."

For the first time since he came into the room Lorna allowed herself to give him a look, even if it was only one of incredulity. He just grinned back at her. She had to admit that, in his own way, Alex was somewhat attractive. His attitude knocked her to hell though, and she'd had too many boys take that tone with her. Maybe she should punch him and get it over with. Her mother wouldn't like it though, and she decided to stay her hand.

Sean, seemingly mollified, pointed at Angel.

"Your turn," he said.

"Well," she said, taking off her jacket and getting up, "My stage name is Angel."

Sean whistled as Angel turned around. Lorna would have to remember to keep an eye on him too. At the moment though, the wings growing out of Angel's back had her full attention. They were luminescent, and beautiful, more like that of a fairy than an angel.

She'd have to make sure that Anya met her. She would love the idea of meeting a fairy.

"Kind of fits," Angel said.

"You can fly?" exclaimed Raven.

"Uh-huh," Angel smiled, "And uh-"

She spit something out into the courtyard. Lorna could see that it was smoking as it landed on the top of the statue's head. It caught on fire briefly before it sizzled away. The other teens laughed and Lorna shook her head.

"That's going to piss them off too," Lorna said.

"What's your name?" said Angel, ignoring Lorna and looking at Hank.

"How about Bigfoot?" Alex laughed.

There were a few scattered laughs. Hank looked down and Lorna glared at Alex. Maybe she would have to punch him after all.

"Well, you know what they say about guys with big feet," Raven said, her voice tight, "And uh-"

She looked down.

"Yours are kind of small," she said.

The room burst out into laughter. While Lorna couldn't say that she understood the joke, she understood that Raven had scored a point.

"Okay now," Alex said, annoyed.

"Alex, what is your gift?" Darwin asked, glancing quickly at Raven, "What can you do?"

An awkward look appeared in Alex's face and he looked down. Lorna cocked her head.

"It's not uh, I just can't do it," he said, "I can't do it here."

"Can you do it out there?" Darwin asked.

"Why don't you just do it out there?" said Raven.

"Come on," Angel said.

Alex still looked uncomfortable, and Lorna smirked.

"You talk a pretty big game," she said, "It would be nice to see something to back it up."

He glared at Lorna and got up, putting his soda onto the table. He climbed out the window and out into the courtyard.

"Get down when I tell you," he said, his voice tight.

The teens gathered at the window, but Lorna stayed put. Raven motioned to Lorna, and she sighed before getting up. She crossed her arms and waited as Alex stood at one end of the courtyard, breathing slowly.

"Get back," he said.

The teens moved away, but a second later they returned to their position.

"Get back!" Alex snapped.

"Touchy," said Lorna.

They didn't move. He shook his head.

"Whatever," Alex said.

He moved forwards, and Lorna saw red rings envelop his body. For a moment it looked like he was glowing. Then the rings shot off in different directions, one of them slicing straight through the statue, cleaving it in half and setting it on fire.

There was thunderous applause, but Lorna gaped.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked.

She climbed through the window. Alex was grinning, but the grin became an irritated look when he saw her expression.

"This is government property, you do know that right?" she asked, "We should call you Havok."

"Geez, chill," Alex said.

"Chill?" asked Lorna, "I can't afford to fix any of this, and I don't think you can either."

"Well if you're so determined on being a party-pooper," Alex said coldly, "Fix it."

She continued to glare at him, and he gave a mock bow.

"I know you can at least try to greenie," he said, "I know what your gift is. So why don't you patch him up?"

"Come on Lorna!" Raven said, "It'll be cool."

"Yeah, Lorna!" Angel called.

Lorna pushed past Alex angrily. She flicked her wrist and the upper half of the statue moved through the air. She heard a few gasps as she put the upper half back where it belonged. It was bigger than what she usually moved, but with a little concentration she managed to get it right. A further movement sealed the crack, joining the two pieces again.

She turned back to the rest of the group, giving Alex a defiant look.

"And for the record," she said, "I wanna be called Polaris."

There was a pause, followed by applause. Lorna blinked, taken back. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Why do you wanna be named after a star though?" Angel asked.

Hank adjusted his glasses, no doubt ready to answer.

"Because it's also the magnetic north," Alex said.

She glanced at him, and he shrugged.

"Lotta books in the clink," he said.

"So you're not as dumb as you look," Lorna said.

He just smirked and held up his hands.

"I'm just full of surprises greenie," he said.

She rolled her eyes.

"Magnetic," Raven said.

She snapped her fingers.

"Yeah, your dad should be Magneto!" said Raven.

"He won't like that," Lorna said.

"Wait, who's your dad?" said Sean.

"The one who wears turtlenecks," Raven said, "The one with the cardigans is my brother. He's a professor, so what do you think about Professor X?"

Sean whistled again, but this time he looked a little more speculative. Lorna didn't like that.

"Come on!" Angel called, "Let's put on some music!"

Rock and roll blared from the juke box. Lorna turned back, feeling awkward. Angel and Raven were already dancing, perhaps only waiting for an excuse.

"Hey Hank!" Sean said, "I betcha can't get on that chandelier!"

"You'll lose that," Hank said, smiling and taking off his shoes.

Lorna took a step backwards. Hank did a back flip and caught the chandelier. Sean and Darwin whooped. Even Alex clapped. She felt his eyes on her.

"Come on greenie," he said.

"Don't call me that," Lorna said.

"Okay, come on," he said.

He took a few steps before stopping. Alex looked over his shoulder.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head, but it was a lie. She had never been to a party before, and what was happening was clearly a party. It looked like fun, but it wasn't for her. She should leave, tell someone about the window, take control of the situation, do the thing that her parents would have expected her to do.

"Hey," Alex said, "It's just a little bit of fun."

His voice had changed, almost as though he was worried. She looked at him, and then back at the room. Darwin had created a rock-hard exoskeleton and Sean was hitting him, seeing what could and couldn't get through.

"Won't kill ya," said Alex.

She swallowed, and then walked forwards. Alex grinned.

"There greenie," he said, "Knew you knew how to have fun."

"Oh shut up," Lorna said.

She jumped over the window frame. Raven saw her and grabbed her hands, pulling her into a dance. The spinning was kind of strange, but it was fun. Angel's wings separated from her back and she took off into the air.

Raven spun Lorna again and Lorna nearly tripped over a table. She did a backflip at the last moment and landed on her feet. There was general applause and she gave a tentative smile. Other kids her age hadn't been impressed by reflexes like that.

"Come on!" Raven said.

Lorna laughed and rejoined the dance. In the background she could hear Sean still hitting Darwin, although he was calling for other objects. She saw Alex pull out a chunk of wood from the wall. While she figured it would only further damage things, she still had to laugh.

"Okay, ever do the Freddie?" Raven asked.

"No clue what that is," said Lorna.

"Girl, did your parents keep you in a box?" Angel laughed.

"Hey hey," said Raven.

She put up her right arm and right leg, and then repeated with her left side.

"Like that. Looks simple, but let's see how fast you can do it," she said.

Lorna did so, feeling like she was twirling. Her hair was getting in her face, but it was still fun.

"You can go faster than that!" Raven said.

She did, and she couldn't help smiling. She could vaguely see Sean pick up a chair before hitting Darwin with it.

"Harder!" he called.

Lorna swayed to the side, only just making it to the side. Raven whooped and jumped into the air.

"You're getting it-"

"What are you doing?"

Lorna turned. Moira, her father, and Charles were standing in the courtyard. Moira looked furious and Charles's mouth was drawn in a thin line. Lorna's eyes met her father's. She could see anger reflected there, and an unfamiliar look too.

The room went quiet, and Lorna swallowed.

"Who destroyed the window?" Moira demanded.

"It was Sean," Hank said.

"Nice one geek," said Alex.

"No, Banshee," Raven said, "We have to call him Banshee. That's his name now."

She walked forward, climbing through the window. Lorna gave her a warning glance, this was not going to be a friendly conversation, but Raven went ahead anyway.

"And we were thinking," she said, pointing to her brother, "You should be Professor X-"

When had they agreed on that? Moira gave Charles a disbelieving look. Lorna wanted to grab her friend and yank her back, stop her from making things worse.

"-and you should be Magneto," Raven said, pointing to her father.

Lorna gave her father a pleading look, but he just inclined his head towards Charles.

"Exceptional," he snorted.

He looked over at Lorna.

"I was coming down to tell you that you should get ready to go to Russia," he said, "But I won't bother now."

He shook his head and walked towards the other end of the building. Panic welled up in her as she ran after her father. She needed to fix this.

"Dad, wait!" Lorna said.

She grabbed onto her father's arm. He stopped and Lorna decided not to waste any time.

"This isn't...I didn't mean that-"

He glared at her over his shoulder.

"I don't think we have anything to discuss," he said.

"You don't understand," Lorna said.

"No, I don't. What I do understand is that I struggled, trying to convince myself that allowing my daughter into this fight was the right thing to do. Then I had to justify to your mother why I was going to bring you with me," he said, "I watched the pain in her eyes, heard her worries and fears. I forced myself to do it because I believed that you were capable and mature enough to fight with us."

Her father looked over at the shattered glass. Lorna could feel her heart beat faster.

"And then I saw this," he said.

"Dad, I didn't think that-"

"No," Erik said, "You didn't. You're not coming with us tonight."

She could feel tears smarting in her eyes.

"Listen, it was just this one time," she said, "Dad, I was just trying to be-"

"Be what?" he asked.

Lorna stared at him. She wanted to say 'be a teenager,' but she couldn't get the worlds out. How could she explain to her father how she'd felt like she belonged, even for a few minutes, when what she'd done had obviously made him angry?

Her father just shook his head.

"That's what I thought," he said.

Lorna let go of his arm. Her arms went limp and the image of her father blurred. Now she knew what it was that she had seen in her father's eyes along with the anger. It had been disappointment. That had never happened before.

He looked at her for another moment before he turned around, stalking away. The tears continued to sting her eyes, but she could also feel them sliding down her cheeks now. She'd failed. She wasn't capable, not strong enough, and as a result she couldn't help protect the people she loved.

"Lorna?"

She looked over her shoulder. Raven stood there, her face uncertain.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No," Lorna said.

"Can I-?"

"No," said Lorna.

She walked past Raven, clutching her arms to herself. Alex looked like he wanted to say something, but he just got out of her way. Lorna was glad. She didn't feel like being around her new 'friends' at the moment.


	12. Chapter 12

October 4, 1962

"Erik!"

Susanna caught up with him, putting her hand on his arm. Anya was in her other hand, and they were both out of breath. He smiled at her, pulling her close. Erik loosened his grip momentarily so that he could kneel down and scoop Anya into his arms.

Her youngest daughter giggled as he picked her up. Susanna smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. Charles and Moira were further up, deep in discussion with Levine. Charles gave her a small wave before checking something that she supposed was an inventory.

"You really are fast," he said.

"I can run quite fast when I hear that my husband and daughter are leaving in a matter of minutes," Susanna said.

"Yeah, where's Lorna?" asked Anya.

His face darkened and Susanna frowned.

"Erik, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Lorna's not coming with me," he said.

She closed her eyes briefly, saying a quick prayer of thanks for this news. While her husband was still running after a maniac, her little girl was safe. Lorna wasn't going to be a soldier after all. All of that worry and anxiety over nothing.

"I can't say that I'm not grateful that you changed your mind," she said.

"You won't be when you hear why," he said.

She opened her eyes and frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. He glanced at Anya, who pouted.

"You guys gonna start talkin about grown up stuff?" asked Anya.

"Yes," Erik said.

"Again?" she moaned.

"It's one of the curses of being a grown up," Erik said.

He set Anya down on her feet.

"If you could just go over there for a few minutes," he said, pointing to the window, "I'll say goodbye to you before I leave."

Anya sighed and walked over to the window.

"I feel bad, sending her away so often," Susanna said.

"We don't have much of an option. She's still too scared to be by herself," said Erik.

His voice was gloomy, and Susanna took his hand in hers. He managed a smile.

"No matter," he said, "I'm sure it will go away soon."

"I'm sure," said Susanna, although she wasn't, "But what happened with Lorna?"

Erik grimaced.

"When I went to pick her up, she was with the others engaged in...I don't know how to describe it," he said, "But they had turned up the music, dancing, and basically being-"

"Wait, they were having a party?" asked Susanna.

"If that's what you want to call it," said Erik.

She pursed her lips, thinking. Lorna had never been to any parties. She had never found other children that she had liked enough to want to be invited. Besides, her reputation had proceeded her, and she spent most of her childhood isolated.

It had hurt Susanna to watch her brilliant daughter stifle her own light, but she had never thought less of her for never participating in any of those activities. She could hardly see how having their daughter finally interacting with other teens was a bad thing.

"Erik, that's nothing. She's just making friends," she said.

"They were out of control."

"I'm sure Lorna wasn't doing anything wrong," Susanna said.

"She was a full participant," said Erik.

"A party is nothing to get so upset about," Susanna said, "It might not be the time for it, but they had just met each other and-"

"They broke a window," Erik said.

She winced.

"Well, that was a little overboard," Susanna said.

"A little?" Erik asked.

Her husband rubbed his temples.

"The minute the adult stepped out of the room they decided to spread wanton destruction and chaos," Erik said.

His voice was disdainful. Susanna paused.

"And you told her that she couldn't come because of this?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "I agreed to take a mature young woman with me into a dangerous situation. I didn't agree to bring a child."

She shook her head.

"Erik, I think you might be judging her a little harshly," she said.

"No, we decided not to take any of them," Erik said, "Charles was disappointed in his own sister as well, and I had my doubts about bringing untrained teenagers to face Shaw, even ones with powers. Untrained, perhaps we could work with, but they were undisciplined as well."

Her husband let out a frustrated breath.

"The only one I didn't have any doubts about was Lorna," he said, "I was nervous about bringing my daughter into danger, but not her capabilities. It appears that I was wrong."

"Erik, you're judging her too harshly," she said.

He drew himself up.

"I barely reconciled myself to bringing her along, and then she goes and does this," Erik said, "That doesn't sound like it's too harsh. It sounds sensible."

"For the first time in her life, she was making friends," said Susanna, "I'm sure she didn't lose her senses. She just wanted to fit in for a little bit."

Erik's brow furrowed, almost like he was remembering something.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," Erik said, "But I won't have her engaging in foolish activity just to blend in. It would be idiotic in the normal world, but with things the way they are, it's downright suicidal."

"Erik, you're holding her to a very high standard," said Susanna, "And it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?" he asked.

She smiled sadly and put her hand on his cheek.

"Because, no matter how much she reminds you of yourself," Susanna said, "she's not you. And her reasons for doing one thing aren't necessarily the reasons that you would expect."

He looked away.

"She's always been more like you than me," said Susanna, "And I've never had a problem with that. But I think that I should say that she's trying her best to be the kind of person that you want her to be because she understands it more."

"She prefers the type of person you are," Erik said, "She told me so herself. She says that you're the best person she knows."

Susanna's heart glowed: she couldn't believe that her daughter saw her this way. While she had tried not to think of it, she had secretly worried that her daughter saw her as weak. Hearing this banished all of these thoughts.

However, there were more important things going on.

"But she's more like you," Susanna said, "And she's going to want to fight for what she has. She's strong and she's determined. While I don't want her to be in the crossfire, I think that you know that whatever tonight was isn't who she is."

"What was it then?" asked Erik.

"It was her trying to act her age for the first time," Susanna said.

He sighed.

"I'll think about what you said, and I'll talk to her when I get back," he said.

"Not now?" Susanna asked.

"There isn't time," he said, "But, hopefully, this will all be over when I return."

"I'd like that," Susanna said.

She stood up straighter and he tightened his grip around her waist.

"Just come back to me like you are," she said, cupping his face, "A good man, one who knows right from wrong, where the lines are."

"I will," he said.

He leaned down and kissed her. She sighed into his kiss, and one of his hands threaded through her hair. Part of her felt like crying, but she was stronger than that. Susanna had often wondered, when she'd seen war movies when she was younger, at the woman who simply told her boyfriend how much she loved him and then sent him off with a memory of her tears. She wasn't going to be like that.

Charles coughed and Erik let her down. He grasped her hand and walked over to Anya. When she saw them approach she hugged her father. Susanna put her arms around the two of them, and she could feel Erik's hand squeeze her shoulder. It wasn't as reassuring as she'd have liked, but it was enough.

"I'll be back in about a day," he said.

"We'll be here," Susanna said.

"Erik, we need to get moving!" Charles called.

He smirked and kissed her once on the forehead before handing her Anya. Anya waved to him.

"Bye daddy!" she called.

"Goodbye Anya," Erik said.

Susanna waved to him before the truck took off. She watched it go for a few minutes before security personnel escorted her and Anya back inside. Susanna walked back to her room, looking in both her and Anya's. Lorna wasn't there.

She shifted Anya in her arms.

"Let's get you ready for bed," she said, "And afterwards, do you want to come with me to find your sister? I'm going to need some help."

Anya nodded. She didn't want to highlight to Anya that Susanna knew she never wanted to be alone. If she made it known that she knew Anya was frightened, then it would only make Anya more miserable. Anya hated to cause any sort of fuss.

So she picked out Anya's night gown. Once her daughter was dressed she took her hand and began looking through the lounge. Voices reached her ears, and she recognized Raven. Maybe Lorna would be nearby.

She looked around and spotted a foot hanging from a nearby alcove. Susanna smiled to herself and approached it.

"Lorna?" she called.

Her daughter looked down. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her arms were folded tightly across her chest.

"What?" Lorna asked.

"I heard what happened," she said.

Lorna pulled up her foot.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she said.

Susanna glanced at Anya, who sighed.

"Next time you have an important con-ver-sa-tion, I don't wanna be sent away," she said.

She kissed her daughter on the top of her head.

"You're an angel Anya," she said, "I'm sorry about this sweetheart."

"I get it," Anya said.

She walked over to the other side of the room next to a potted plant. She began to tug on the leaves absently, and Susanna forced herself to focus on her oldest daughter.

"Lorna, I want to know how you saw the situation," she said.

"How I saw it?" Lorna asked.

She slid down from the alcove.

"In front of several teens, most of whom I had never seen before today, I was told that I was a stupid child," Lorna said.

"Did he use those words?"

"He implied it."

She bit her lip, wondering how best to handle this.

"It's not like you to care so much about what other people think," Susanna said.

"I don't," Lorna said, "But I care about what dad thinks. He wouldn't listen mom."

She glared at the floor.

"He was disappointed in me," Lorna said, "Barely gave me a chance to explain. But I wasn't just screwing around. All I wanted was-"

"A chance to have fun with people who could be your friends," said Susanna, "I understand entirely."

She touched her daughter's cheek.

"Lorna, your father was hard on you tonight, and I don't think that he had a right to be," she said, "But he's only doing this because he's scared for you."

"Just because I'm sixteen doesn't mean I'm weak. I can handle myself," said Lorna.

"I don't care if you're a million, a thousand pounds and a hundred feet tall," Susanna said, "We're your parents, and we're always going to worry about you when you go into dangerous situations, and going after Shaw is a very dangerous situation."

"I know that," Lorna said.

She moved forwards and hugged her daughter.

"We'll all talk to your father when he gets back," she said, "As much as it kills me to think of my daughter as fighting, I know you won't be able to stay on the sidelines. We'll figure something out."

Lorna hugged her back.

"Thanks for understanding," she said, "You always do."

Susanna held her a little tighter.

"It's what I'm best at," she said.


	13. Chapter 13

October 4, 1962

After the night that Alex had just had, he wanted to get away from everyone go to bed. He didn't feel particularly embarrassed about what had happened: they'd just been having some fun after all. He didn't care that MacTaggert had decided to be a jerk about the whole thing either. She was a suit, of course she would be irate about anything fun.

However, he remembered the way that Lorna had talked with her father. He could feel some pity for her, as well as some guilt. Obviously her father was a hard-ass, and he supposed that everything she'd said earlier had been her trying to live up to his expectations.

Because of where he was, he'd heard just about every word that they'd said. Given Lorna's snappy attitude, he'd expected her to shoot back a few biting remarks. She hadn't though. She'd almost looked like she was about to cry.

That had really hit home for him, and he wasn't sure exactly why. He'd seen a lot of people get a dressing down. On reflection though, he suddenly realized that he'd never seen a parent do it. Not a parent whose child respected them as much as Lorna obviously respected her father.

She'd had a good home life. It wasn't something that he usually saw, and not in someone so fierce and self-assured. The clean-cut kids were the ones with the good home life, the kids who got good grades and were scheduled to go to Ivy league schools. Their parents were doctors, lawyers, businessmen. While he figured Lorna was smart, he could tell that that that wasn't her household.

His mind wandered back to his own father, as it had often done once he was arrested. His father's words of admonishment stayed with him and, as he sat with the rest of the teens, he could hear them echoing in his head.

_"You know that there wasn't any need for you to do that. You know that-"_

_"Listen, you can't act up like that. You're on a base and-"_

_"Think about the example you're setting for Scott."_

The last comment stung more than it should. Scott was as dead as his father, and nothing Alex ever did would affect him again. An ache he had tried so hard to forget cut him and he gritted his teeth. It would pass. Everything passed.

As he struggled he heard a few agents outside the room. He wasn't quite sure what they were saying, but he knew it was negative. He could see the dismayed expressions around the room, only confirming his suspicions. Alex wanted to punch them, but there were more memories welling up in his mind.

He could see his little brother putting together a puzzle, jamming all of the wrong pieces together. His mother was making his lunch, telling him to have a fun time at school. His father was helping them build a tree house, and Scott nearly fell off one of the bigger beams. Alex had run beneath him and caught him, sending both of them to the ground. Other memories, memories of sneaking cookies, of buckling into a plane for what they thought was going to be a fun afternoon trip-

Alex got up and stormed out of the room. He didn't want to deal with those memories. He'd dealt with them enough when his family had died. Why couldn't he be left alone now to live what was left of his life? Why couldn't he forget?

"We'll all talk to your father when he gets back."

He looked to his side, blinking a bit. A woman with dark brown hair was hugging Lorna. There was a similarity in looks, and he supposed that this was her mother.

"As much as it kills me to think of my daughter as fighting," her mother said, "I know you won't be able to stay on the sidelines. We'll figure something out."

Lorna hugged her back. He felt his heart thud, and he tried to calm down. Alex needed to stop thinking about his family.

"Thanks for understanding," Lorna said, "You always do."

Alex turned away, ducking behind the wall. He put his head against the wall and clutched his eyes tightly. He had to calm down.

"It's what I'm best at," her mother said.

He swallowed again.

_"Alex, can you help me with-"_

_"Did you remember to clean your room?"_

_"How was school today?"_

_"I wanna have the remote this time!"_

_"There's an old plane like the one I used to fly for rent. It's made of wood, so it'll be different. What do you say Alex? Want to go for a ride-?"_

"Are you alright?"

He opened his eyes, gasping for breath. Lorna's mother stood in front of him, a small girl at her side. Lorna was close behind them, giving him a quizzical look. Alex forced himself to give a cocky grin.

"Yeah lady," he said, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

"You look awful mister," the little girl said.

"Anya!" Lorna's mother said.

He raised his eyebrows. If the girl was older, then he might say something insulting. However, she was only five or six. Scott had been that age.

"Really?" he asked, "Because I've been told that I'm classically handsome."

Anya giggled.

"I like you," she said, "You're funny. Like my sister."

She pointed to Lorna. Lorna just rolled her eyes.

"I'm much funnier than him Anya," Lorna said.

"Of course you are," said Anya.

Even though he didn't want to, Alex found himself grinning.

"You didn't tell me you had a little sister," he said.

"Didn't come up in conversation," Lorna said.

"Lorna," her mother said.

She put a hand on Anya's head. He expected her to ask what was wrong again, if he was feeling well, and he got ready for another denial.

"I'm Susanna Lensherr," she said, "I'm sure that you've met my husband, Erik."

He paused. He hadn't expected that. Erik? Oh yes, he'd met her husband. When Alex had been told that Lorna was Erik's daughter, he hadn't really pictured her mother. and while he'd known that she was hugging her mother, he hadn't really made the connection. He supposed that, if he thought about it, he would have pictured her being as tough-as-nails, as biting and sharp as her husband and daughter.

The woman in front of him was all sweetness and cream. He had a hard time believing that a woman who reminded him more of a fairytale character than a real person was married to the chunk of subdued violence that was named Erik.

He chose not to say any of this. Not when she'd dropped the subject as to why he was by himself sweating in a corner.

"Alex Summers," he said, putting his hand out.

Susanna reached out and shook it.

"I know you've already met my older daughter," she said, "But this is my youngest."

"I'm six," Anya said.

"Thought you might be," said Alex, dropping Susanna's hand, "You look like your sister and mom."

"Thank you!" Anya beamed.

Susanna smiled.

"I think that she's taking a shine to you," she said.

She looked over at Lorna.

"You didn't mention that you had such charming new friends," Susanna said.

Alex raised his eyebrows at the same time that Lorna did. It had been a long time since anyone had called him charming.

"He wasn't this charming earlier," Lorna said.

"Lorna," said Susanna.

"No, she's right," Alex said, grinning, "I'm something of a mixed bag."

"I'm sure you're fine," said Susanna, "Not many people would admit to being a mixed bag after all."

He grinned and chuckled. Lorna did too, and suddenly he realized why Susanna was with Erik. She was airy and sweet, but she was more than that. Susanna was understanding and kind, the kind of person who brightened a room by walking into it.

It was the kind of thing that would balance out what Alex had seen of Erik's dark and brooding nature. Their children seemed to be a mix, although Anya was too young for him to really tell. Lorna had more of her father's sullen nature. Perhaps it was why she loved her mother so much.

His mind went back to the gloomy faces in the lounge after the CIA agents had been there. They needed someone to come in and brighten things up. With that thought in mind he jerked his thumb towards the lounge.

"Wanna go meet everyone else?" he asked.

Susanna looked over at Lorna.

"Would you mind me meeting your friends?" she asked.

"No," Lorna said, "I think they'd love it."

She hesitated and looked at Anya.

"It's past Anya's bed time-"

"Please mom?" Anya said.

"It's your bedtime," repeated Susanna.

"Please?" Anya begged.

"Come on," said Alex, "It'll be fun for her."

Susanna laughed.

"Alright then," she said.

* * *

Erik gripped his binoculars tightly as he watched the red man materialize on the lawn of the house. Images flashed through his mind of the monster holding a knife to his little daughter's throat, hearing her cry for him to help her.

He needed to suffer. The thought was strong, burning one. Normally he would have accepted it and moved on to the kill, but he could hear his wife's voice fighting with him. He gripped the binoculars until his knuckles ached. No, Erik couldn't torture him or kill him. Not with his promise to Susanna still echoing in her mind. His hate burned within him, but it was a little more controllable.

As much as he hated him though, there was someone he hated more, and he wasn't there.

"Where's Shaw?" Erik demanded.

Moira looked confused, as did Levine. Even Charles looked a little put off. It appeared that their information was wrong.

"I don't know," said Charles, "But this one's been around a telepath. I'm not sure if he can tell if I'm there or not."

His friend pursed his lips in concentration.

"I'm going to try something else," Charles said.

He put two fingers to his temples. Erik had no idea what he was doing, but he had come through for them at the checkpoint earlier. He had to have a little faith in him, even if he was making him impatient.

"He's not coming," said Charles.

He turned to Moira, looking concerned.

"So, what now boss?" he asked.

She sighed, seemingly frustrated. Her feelings were nothing compared to his.

"Now nothing," Moira said, "We're here for Shaw: mission aborted."

After everything that had happened, after everything Shaw had done to him and his family, he was not going to let him get away that easy. Susanna's warnings were still in his ears, but he refused to go home with nothing to show for the trip.

If nothing else, the man would have information.

"The hell it is!" snapped Erik.

He started to get up, but Moira grabbed his arm.

"Erik," she hissed.

"That man nearly killed my wife and daughters," Erik snapped back, "That's good enough for me."

"The CIA invading the home of a senior Soviet official?" asked Moira, "Are you crazy?"

He laughed.

"I'm not CIA," he said.

Erik scrambled to his feet and ran off. He didn't even look back when Charles called his name. He didn't even bother thinking about it. Shaw might not be there, but some small degree of safety for his wife and daughters was within his grasp. He couldn't just let it go when he could give it to them, and that was something that Charles could never understand.

He wasn't a husband and father.


	14. Chapter 14

October 5, 1962

"-and that's about the time that I figured Irish dancing wasn't for me," Sean said.

Susanna laughed and Lorna smiled. Her mother seemed a bright spot in a room that was still smarting from being chewed out. It seemed a little much for that though: only Raven and she had had relatives lecture them. Maybe she'd missed something.

There was a sudden thud. Darwin began looking around him, his face confused. Lorna dismissed it just as she heard another thump. Several other sounds followed the first and she got up, heading towards the window. Lorna moved her hand and the curtains, on metal rings, parted.

"What is it mama?" Anya asked.

Lorna put her hand behind her, hoping that they would stay where they were. A second later a body fell into the courtyard with a sickening crunch. Raven and Angel screamed and she heard one of the boys shout. Another body followed it, and another.

She didn't make a sound though. Her mother was calling out to her, no doubt shielding Anya. Lorna had a more pressing need though: something was happening. Feeling sick, Lorna took another step forward. She looked up and saw several agents standing on the edge of their windows, peering down. In unison they stepped out, falling onto the courtyard below them.

* * *

Erik burst into the room, Charles next to him. It had been irritating getting a lecture from Charles on the way in. He hadn't asked him to come, and it wasn't as though he had killed those guards. He'd made a concentrated effort to avoid that.

Now though, now they were there. He saw the two men talking in front of a table, but they both looked up when they came in. The red man snarled at them, and the Minister of Defense began to get up. Charles immediately put his fingers to his temples, and the minister fell backwards.

The red man had better instincts. He disappeared and reappeared next to Erik. He managed to duck his knife and Charles whirled around, only to have the man disappear again. Erik grabbed Charles by the foot and pulled him to the ground moments before the red man reappeared and slashed the air where Charles had been.

Erik reached out for the metal in his swords, but he couldn't quite get a lock on it. It was difficult to fight someone who wasn't even there half the time. He could feel the swords, but they were never close enough for him to do anything about it.

Charles was having the same problem, as the man's mind wasn't in any one place either. So far they had been able to fend off his sword blows, but it was getting increasingly difficult. He glanced at Charles, who was looking exhausted.

Erik saw another puff of black smoke. He lashed out, knocking him back. The man stumbled and Erik kicked him in the chest. He could tell that the man was trying to teleport, and Charles put his fingers to his temples.

The man stumbled again, and Erik flicked his wrists. Metal from nearby window pulled out and grabbed his hands and feet. His swords clattered to the floor and the man snarled at the two of them.

"What now Erik?" asked Charles, keeping his fingers to his temples.

"We start by telling the CIA we've captured one of Shaw's companions," he said.

The man began laughing. Erik narrowed his eyes.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"CIA will not respond," the man said, "They will be busy."

His grin unnerved Erik and, for the first time, doubt began creeping in.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Shaw figured should pay little visit to new enemies," the man said.

He leaned in a little, as did Charles.

"Them and your family."

Erik lunged for him, but there was another cloud of black smoke. Erik found himself grabbing thin air, his heart pounding in his ears. He looked over at Charles, his vision blurring with fear and panic.

"I'm sorry, he had some sort of block. I didn't know Emma could-" Charles began.

"Forget it. We have to get back," he said.

"Erik," Charles said, his voice shaking, "Erik, we're hours and hours away from-"

"We have to get back!" Erik shouted.

They couldn't be too late. They couldn't be.

* * *

Susanna kept Anya close to her, shielding her daughter's face from the sight of the dead agents.

"We have to get out of here," Darwin said, "Come on."

Susanna picked up Anya and held out her hand to Lorna. Lorna stared at the bodies in the courtyard for a moment more before taking her mother's hand. They ran out into the hallway, where armed soldiers had formed a block.

"Get back!" one of them yelled.

"We can help!" Darwin shouted.

"Just get the hell out of our way!" snapped Lorna.

Fire filled the hallway. One of the soldiers gestured to them, pushing them back. Lorna moved forward, but Susanna yanked on her hand.

"Lorna, please," she said.

Her daughter looked at her. Anya had started crying and Lorna clenched her teeth. She headed back to the room with the others, Susanna tightly clenching her hand. They arrived just as the window broke. Susanna was knocked off her feet, managing to block Anya from most of the blast. The glass sailed over their heads. She felt some of it skim her back as she looked up.

Lorna had managed to get down in time too, but she was too close to the courtyard. To their left she saw a tornado sweep through, destroying one of the installations. The other window broke and more glass scattered throughout the room.

She stared and Lorna offered her her hand.

"Mom, we need to-" she started.

The man that Erik had nearly killed walked through one of the windows, straightening his jacket. Emma walked through the other window, examining her nails. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but there was a scuffle outside the door.

"Wait, you want the mutants? They're right through that door. Just let us normal people go. We're no threat-"

There was an unpleasant sound and Susanna clutched Anya closer to her.

"Bastard," Lorna murmured.

Susanna rose slowly to her feet, moving Anya so that she was behind her. The CIA had failed. She doubted she would be more successful, but she needed to do something. Shaw walked into the room, wearing some sort of helmet. Her mind went to her husband, who had thought that he'd gone after him.

She held Anya tighter and reached for Lorna's shoulder. Lorna put her hand on her mother's, giving it a squeeze.

"The telepath's not here," Emma said.

"Well, then there's no need for this," said Shaw, taking his helmet off.

He looked at them all, smiling and friendly.

"Good evening," he said, "My name is Sebastian Shaw, and I am not here to hurt you."

The metal statue tore off of the podium and flew towards them. The dark-haired man flicked his wrist and a gust of wind carried the statue away from them. Susanna looked at Lorna, whose eyes were glowing green.

"Miss Lensherr," Shaw sighed, "There's no need for that."

"You stay the hell away from us," Lorna hissed.

"You're your father's daughter, I'll give you that," he said.

He laughed.

"My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do," Shaw said, "each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved, or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition you are against us."

"And choose torturing children?" Susanna said.

"Ah, Mrs. Lensherr," said Shaw, "If it hadn't been me looking into your husband's rather unique gift, then it would have been others. And they wouldn't have been as gentle as me."

"I doubt that," Susanna said.

He laughed again and looked at the teens.

"So, you can stay, fight for the people who hate and fear you, or you can join me, and live like kings," he said.

His eyes sought out someone's: Susanna couldn't see who.

"Or queens," he said.

Susanna heard someone sigh, and then Angel walked forwards. The group gave a collective start, but Lorna was the one who spoke.

"Are you kidding me?" she demanded.

"We don't belong here," said Angel, "And that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Did you see what he just did?" Lorna asked.

"That guy was going to just let us die!" Angel said, pointing to the door.

"And the rest of the base is littered with people who died for us," said Susanna.

For a moment Angel hesitated.

"Come on Angel," Darwin said.

"You don't know what it's like out there, the kinds of things people do-" Angel said, her voice condescending.

"You just decided to turn against your friends and join a madman," Lorna said, her voice a snarl, "Yeah, I think I know what people are capable of."

Angel tossed her head and walked over to Shaw. He tucked his helmet securely underneath his arm.

"You know Miss Lensherr, I'd rather hoped that you would have accepted my offer," he said.

"And why's that?" Lorna snapped.

"So I wouldn't have to kill you," Shaw said.

Susanna moved forwards, but something froze her in place. Lorna went limp and fell to the ground.

"Nicely done Emma," he said.

Susanna could feel her heart pounding, terror blurring her vision. Shaw walked over to Lorna, his hand outstretched.

"No!" she screamed.

Shaw turned to her as he took her daughter's neck in his hand, smiling.

"Sorry about this Mrs. Lensherr," he said, "Now, anything to say Lorna?"

"Go to hell," she said.

"I'll pass on that," Shaw said.

Susanna couldn't believe this was happening. She looked for someone, anyone to do something, but the rest of the group was frozen in place. Emma.

"Please, leave her alone!" Susanna begged, "She's only sixteen!"

"Would you rather I kill your other daughter?" Shaw asked indulgently.

"I'd rather you take me!"

Shaw stared at her, a strange smile on his face.

"You would trade your daughter for yourself?" he asked.

"Yes," Susanna said.

"Mom-" began Lorna.

"Shhhh," Shaw said.

He looked at Susanna, his eyes alight. Susanna stood strong, her eyes darting to Lorna. His hand was still around her throat. He could kill her with a simple movement of his hand, and she would be unable to fight back.

Emma yawned.

"Sebastian, she's just stalling," she said, "Kill the girl and let's get out of here. I'm getting another headache."

"No, no," Shaw said, "She has a point."

Susanna swallowed. Shaw's eyes were fully on her now, and she had to clench her fist to stop herself from shaking.

"After all Emma," he said, "Do you think that the younger Lensherrs will ever get over watching their mother's sacrifice? Or what Erik will think when he realizes that he wasn't able to protect his wife from having to make this choice?"

"That's little psychological, even for me," Emma said.

"Perhaps," he said.

There was a pause, and then he smiled.

"Walk to me," he said.

"Let Lorna go first," Susanna said.

He looked at Emma. Emma nodded, and Lorna's eyes glazed a bit more. Shaw tossed her aside and Susanna felt her throat go dry.

"Now," Shaw said, "Come."

"Mama!" Anya cried.

She shook her head.

"Anya, stay back," Susanna said.

"She can't move, so forget her," said Shaw, "Come here, before I change my mind."

Susanna walked forwards, keeping her back as straight as possible. She had to concentrate on every step, because otherwise she was going to falter and fall. She couldn't let her daughters see her waiver.

Emma seemed bored, and the dark-haired man was smirking as she got closer. She looked over at Angel. Although the young girl looked horrified, she wasn't moving.

"Kneel," Shaw demanded.

"No," Susanna said.

He seemed surprised, but Susanna was going to die with dignity.

"You're being rather disobedient for a willing sacrifice," he said.

"I don't expect you to understand," Susanna said, "But you said that we had a choice. Well, I've decided to die on my terms."

She tilted her chin upwards.

"I chose this: not you."

Emma crossed her eyes and Shaw looked her up and down.

"I wonder," he said.

Susanna's breath caught in her throat. She had never been so scared in her life, but she just kept thinking about her daughters. She had to do this, had to stay strong. Anya's sobs were echoing in her ears, Lorna's strained voice as she struggled, and it only made her more determined.

"Erik had some wonderful potential," Shaw said, his voice soft, "But I only really saw its peak when I took something from him. No physical pain that I created could ever reproduce that effect, sad to say."

His hand reached out and touched her cheek. Susanna jerked away, but he grabbed her chin. The force of his fingers made her wince. She put her hands over his wrist, but his grip just tightened. Susanna became aware that he could break her jaw if he wished.

Not that it would matter. She'd be dead soon.

"I wonder how he might feel about having you taken away?" he asked, "I wonder how he'd feel if he comes back and finds, instead of his pretty little wife, a cold corpse. I wish I could see that. I wish you could see that really."

She forced herself not to swallow. Instead she looked up at him, daring him to carry through his threat and saying a silent prayer for her family when he did. Specifically, she prayed for her husband, for his soul and sanity.

"You don't give him enough credit," she said.

"And you give him too much," said Shaw.

"Mom, don't-" Lorna said.

"I love you," said Susanna, not daring to look at her daughters, "You and Anya. So much. Your father too-"

"Stop talking," Shaw said.

He jerked her head back and forth, as though examining her. Finally he settled on having her face him, his glowering eyes meeting hers.

"You all but healed the scar I left on him last time," he said.

His grip increased, but Susanna managed to maintain eye contact. She saw her death reflected back. Her life began to flash before her, her parents taking her with them on their medical tours, hearing the news of their deaths, feeling her world fall out. She remembered Erik taking her hand for the first time, Lorna's small, baby fingers grabbing onto hers and giving her hope.

Her memories of her wedding were there, as well as Anya's infectious laughter. There had been so much love. She could be grateful for that.

"This time," Shaw said, "I want to leave a scar that will never heal."


	15. Chapter 15

October 5, 1962

Erik pushed open the door to the car. He'd heard about the attack on the facility over two hours ago, but there hadn't been any details. Not a second of those hours had passed that he hadn't prayed, threatened, begged the powers that be to spare his family.

The teens were gathered in the front of the building. He ran up to them, but he couldn't see his family anywhere. Raven started when she saw him, her lips moving wordlessly. The anguish on her face told him everything.

His family hadn't been spared.

"Where are they?" he demanded.

"Lorna, she, Lorna and Anya are with Susanna in the med bay-" Raven began.

He didn't bother to hear the rest. His family was hurting, and that was all he needed to know. He took off running again, his feet pounding on the pavement. He knew where the medical facility was: it was close. It seemed as though it was a million miles away though, each footstep bringing him no closer.

Finally he reached the doors. He pushed at the air with his hands, and the metal doors flew open.

"-and I know what I have to do now."

He turned his head at Lorna's voice and spotted his daughters. Anya was in Lorna's lap, her head hidden and her body limp. Lorna's face was tearstained and her eyes were rimmed with red. Still, she was staring at the hospital bed next to her.

Susanna lay there, attached to a few IV's. Her hair was pillowed out around her, and she was hooked up to a machine. The beeping noise filled the room, and his wife's eyes were closed. One of Lorna's hands was twined with hers.

He ran over and Lorna looked up.

"Dad," she said, her voice choked.

He gathered her up in his arms. Worried thoughts ran around him, his wife and daughters. He wanted to look at his wife as she laid in the hospital bed, see what was wrong. Lorna and Anya were right there though: Susanna would never forgive him if he checked on them second. He could see a few scratches, but those would heal. Anya woke up and began crying.

He picked her up, looking over at Susanna. His heart was caught in his throat as he searched her for injuries, but he couldn't see any. Perhaps she was only unconscious. He looked again for any head injury, but he couldn't find any.

"What happened?" he asked.

He looked at Lorna, who put her hand in front of her mouth.

"I tried Dad," she said, "I tried so hard."

"Lorna-"

"I couldn't help her," Lorna said.

Her shoulders began to shake, and he could see new tears running down her cheeks. Erik grabbed onto her shoulder. Her voice was on the edge of hysteria, and he could feel that feeling inside himself. Erik needed to know what had happened though.

"Lorna, what happened?" he repeated.

"Shaw was gonna kill me," Lorna said, "I couldn't fight back. Emma did something...dad, she told him to take her-"

"But she's alive," said Erik.

He looked at the machine she was hooked up to. Although Lorna's words had filled him with fear, he could hear the steady beep of the machine. His wife was still alive.

"Dad, Emma came up to her," said Lorna, "She...she put a hand on her head, and then mom screamed, she screamed so long, and dad, she hasn't woken up."

Erik took a deep breath and looked down at his wife. Her eyes were still closed, oblivious to the world around her. The door opened and Hank walked in, flipping through a clipboard. Erik flicked his wrist. The metal watch on Hank's wrist pulled him forwards.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded.

Hank looked alarmed, and clutched his clipboard to his chest.

"You answer me right this damned minute-"

"Erik, for God's sake!"

Charles came in, looking harried. Erik held Anya closer to him. Lorna stood next to him, her eyes downcast. Charles glanced at Susanna's unconscious form. He looked back at Hank and swallowed slowly.

"Medically speaking, there's nothing wrong with her," Hank said.

"What?" Erik said.

"No cuts, scraps, contusions, concussions, broken bones," Hank said, looking nervous, "She seems to be breathing normally, and her heart rate is steady. By all accounts she should be conscious, and she's responsive."

"Responsive," Erik repeated.

Hank bit his lip and walked over to Susanna. He snapped his fingers and her eyes flew open. They were dull and lifeless though, not the sparkling green that he had always loved. A few seconds went by and she closed her eyes again.

"More or less," Hank said, "But she won't wake up. Not really."

"A coma?" Erik asked.

Hank gave a pained look to Lorna. Erik realized that, whatever he was about to hear, his daughters had heard it first.

"No," Hank said, "This is more of a, um, vegetative state."

"And the difference is?" Erik snapped.

"I'll take it from here," said Charles.

Hank nodded and scurried away. He paused at the doorway, looking at the small group helplessly before disappearing. Charles stepped forwards and sat down next to Susanna.

"Charles, you can help her, right?" asked Lorna, "I know that Emma did something, but you're a telepath too-"

"I'll do the best I can," Charles said.

He closed his eyes and put two fingers to his temples. Anya peeked out so that she could look and Lorna drew closer to Erik. He put an arm around her shoulders. Charles would undo whatever it was that Emma had done. Susanna had to be alright.

As the minutes ticked on, the pain in his chest grew. The last time he had felt anything like this had been when he was in the waiting room of a hospital, waiting to hear if he was going to have a wife and daughter or nothing at all.

At last Charles opened his eyes. He gave Erik a dismayed look.

"Did you repair the damage?" he asked.

"Erik...I don't know how to say this...but there's nothing there to repair," he said.

The world slowed and began to blur.

"What?"

"It's like she's been wiped clean," Charles said, "I can't get anything, a half formed thought, an emotion-"

"You have to do something!" said Lorna.

His daughter pulled away from him and knelt next to her mother's bed, her hands next to her.

"Lorna, I can't find anything," Charles said, "I think Emma might have erased her mind entirely. I've never tried anything on that level, but the amount of strength it would require would be immense."

It was all Erik could do to keep holding onto Anya. His wife was gone. Her body was still there, still with them, but her soul and mind were gone. He would never hear her laugh, tell her she loved him, never feel her hand twine with his, never watch her play with their children.

No, that couldn't be right.

"How...how extensive-?" he asked.

"Emma didn't want us to be able to fix this," Charles said.

"No, she wouldn't," said Erik.

It came to him then, just what had happened. Shaw had managed to do what his own mistakes, the march of time, the attentions of others, and Susanna's better judgment had all failed to do. He had managed to take his wife away from him.

She would live on until the end of her days silent, within his reach but so far away. All around him a rattling began. He struggled, trying to find something to focus on. His wife had been in his arms only the day before, telling him to hurry back and discussing their children. Now her smile was gone, her strength and faith in him was gone.

Something crunched and broke. Anya began crying again.

_Erik, calm you mind._

_Go away Charles_, Erik thought.

_Erik, you are going to destroy this room, including the equipment that's keeping your wife alive!_

For the first time he started to look around. Several of the chairs were bent out of shape. Some of the trays and beds had been turned over. The rest were rattling. Erik gave a harsh breath and the rattling stopped.

"Erik?"

"I've got it under control," he snapped.

Erik closed his eyes, trying not to think of the years that lay before him.

"Daddy?"

He forced himself to face his youngest daughter.

"Is mama gonna wake up?" she wept.

"I hope so," Erik said.

It was as good an answer as any. Anya sniffled and buried her head in his shoulder again. He wondered where the light, airy child that he had once known had gone. The answer came as quickly as the question. Shaw's presence was destroying her.

"I...mom," Lorna said.

She bowed her head.

"It's my fault," Lorna said, "If I hadn't, if I'd been stronger-"

"No."

Erik walked forward, ignoring the shocked look on his daughter's face. He sat down on the spare chair that he hadn't destroyed.

"This was a message for me," he said, "It had nothing to do with you or your mother Lorna. This was for me."

He reached out with his spare hand and took his wife's hand. Charles was talking, perhaps trying to comfort him, but he wasn't listening. It was cool to the touch, almost that of a corpse's but not quite. He turned it over. There were callouses on her fingertips and the inside of her fingers. He'd hated to imagine the hard work that she had been exposed to that had created those.

This was also the hand that bore his ring. Erik remembered how eager he'd been to announce his claim to the world. He hadn't wanted another day to go by without her being his wife, without making Lorna his daughter officially. It was a fairly cheap thing: he'd wanted it fast. She had never let him replace it.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. He could feel a spark of warmth there. She was still alive, and he supposed that there would always be hope while she was. It was what Shaw wanted him to think, to hope in vain until he was old, never giving up, but never again having his wife. Sick bastard.

Erik clenched his wife's hand as his anger grew. Shaw was probably laughing now, thinking of Susanna's blank form. Her light had been such a beautiful, strong presence in his life. He'd feared losing it so much in the past month. Now that it was gone he felt empty inside.

Some of Charles's words started filtering through.

"-closing down the facility," Charles said, "They can't run it like this. The rest of the children don't want to leave, but I can't involve them in this. Not anymore."

"Why not?" Erik said.

His friend looked up, his expression shocked.

"I was going to make things right for her Charles," Erik said, "I can't do that anymore, but I can avenge her."

Lorna lifted her head. Charles glanced at her.

"Perhaps we shouldn't discuss this now-"

"She's her mother," said Erik, "She can hear. Her and Anya."

"They're just kids out there," Charles said

"Not this again," Erik said, "Even if you still hold onto those ideas, they're not kids. None of the children are after after last night. Shaw has his army: we need ours."

"I'm not afraid to fight," said Lorna, "If you'll let me."

Her eyes met Erik's. An ocean of pain threatened to overwhelm him. When he was a child, Shaw had taken his mother from him. While this was slightly different, Lorna now knew what it felt like to watch a parent sacrifice themselves. Anya did too, and they were both far too young.

He hadn't wanted this for either of them.

"Dad, I lost sight of what was important for one night," she said, "I won't do it again."

Erik let go of Susanna's hand and clasped the back of Lorna's head. Her eyes were her mother's eyes, but there was a fierceness in them.

"Lorna, I would trust you with my life," he said, "There's no one I'd rather have with me."

Tears filled her eyes and Erik looked up at Charles. Charles returned the look before sighing.

"We'll have to train," he murmured, "All of us."

"Where?" Lorna asked, wiping her eyes, "We can't stay here."

Charles gave her a sad look.

"I know a place," he said.

Erik nodded. They were going to train, become the force they needed to be. And then they would find Shaw. This time, they would take out Emma. No one was going to face the same fate that Susanna had met. No one else's soul was going to be shattered.

And then, he would make Shaw pay for every ounce of misery he had caused.


	16. Chapter 16

October 6, 1962

Lorna watched as Erik and Hank moved her mother from the bed she'd travelled in into the bed that they'd prepared for her. The trip Charles's manor had been long, and she'd never been so happy to arrive. Sleeping in the car had been futile: all she could think about was the one person close to her who would never wake up again.

Hank began hooking up the IV's and plugging in the heart machines. Anya stepped forwards tentatively.

"Can I help?" she asked.

"Anya, you're not a doctor," said Lorna, "You shouldn't-"

"It's okay," Hank said.

He adjusted his glasses.

"There's nothing I need right now, but I'm probably going to need help over the next few days," he said, "I'll tell you when I need something."

Anya nodded, her eyes eager. Lorna swallowed, feeling ashamed of herself somehow.

"Keep me posted too," she said.

Hank gave her a quick smile.

"I think that we're all going to be pretty busy training," he said, "But, like you said, I'll let you all know."

He finished plugging in the last machine.

"Now it's just getting her comfortable," he said.

"We can take care of that," Erik said.

Hank nodded, looking a little nervous. Lorna supposed that her father made an intimidating figure, looming protectively over the form of her mother. Hank bumped her shoulder on the way out.

"Remember we're going to have a training session tonight at five," he said, "Try to um, get some sleep before then."

"I'll try," Lorna said, "Do you even know what we'll be doing?"

"Not a clue," Hank said.

He gave her another quick smile before leaving. When he was down the hallway Lorna turned her wrist and the door shut. Her father had already pulled the covers up around her mother's chest. He let them fall and put her arms on the top of them.

Anya had climbed up on one of the chairs and was brushing their mother's hair. The motion reminded her of the way that Anya would groom her dolls. Despite the fact that she knew her sister really was helping, bile filled her throat. That was what their mother was now: a perfect, lifeless doll.

She forced the thought from her head. Her mother was going to wake up one day. They just had to figure out how to get her mind back in order. She had no idea how they were going to do that, but until they did, then they would have to keep her body comfortable.

Lorna raised up her mother's second arm, placing it above the covers. Her father nodded and took her mother's hand in his.

"Did I ever tell you what your mother was like at your age?" he asked.

She started. Anya looked up, curious.

"No," Lorna said.

"Well," her father said, smiling, "She was...special Lorna. Much like she is now, more innocent, but you wouldn't expect such a young woman to have that level of maturity."

He rubbed the back of her hand. Anya had stopped brushing her mother's hair and was listening intently. Lorna sat down beside her.

"When I got off the train, I didn't want to look around or explore. I didn't want to be there," he said, "I couldn't care if they just left me there. And then she walked up."

His eyes closed, as though trying to remember something.

"Even then, I recognized that she was the most beautiful girl I'd seen," he said, "I turned away her offer of help, refusing even to talk to her, but she just kept insisting. She wanted to be my friend when I didn't want any and, instead of getting angry when I said something terrible..."

He opened his eyes again. Anya leaned in to Lorna's hand, the hair brush limp in her hands. Lorna put an arm around her little sister.

"...she understood," her father said, "I think that that was what made me realize that she was different from everyone else. She understood when I meant, what I was saying, and when I just said it because I was scared. She was so compassionate, even when she had lost so much. So intuitive."

Her father chuckled.

"She knew I'd fallen in love with her even before I did," he said, "It was only my own foolishness that ensured we weren't together sooner."

He looked up at them.

"When I first saw you Lorna, when you first came out of that house, I knew what it was that I had done," he said, "I knew that I had added difficulties to Susanna's broken heart, made her life more complicated."

Lorna nodded. Some people might take offense at the way her father was talking, but he was just being honest with her. They had always been honest with each other, and they knew that it had been difficult for her mother. She wondered what she would have done if she found out she was pregnant with no father to help out. Her mother had only been a little older than she'd been.

Oftentimes she had thought back to when she was a little girl, to the determined fatigue her mother always seemed to carry with her. She wouldn't let the world beat her down, had never resented Lorna.

"Of course, she never saw you as anything other than a gift," her father said, "She said that you gave her a purpose in life. She loved...she loves you so much."

The smile he gave was strained.

"As do I," he said.

Lorna nodded, her throat too clogged for words.

"And Anya," her father said, "We never told you this...but there were difficulties when you were born."

Anya put her hands to her mouth in shock.

"We nearly lost you both that night," her father said, "But your mother was so determined that everything was going to be alright. She told me that, and it never occurred to her to be afraid for herself. Her only thoughts were of you, that it was going to be alright because it had to.

He reached out and touched Anya's cheek.

"She was right, of course," he said, "She was so happy when we brought you home."

Anya nodded, her hands still clenched around the lower half of her face.

"That's why, as long as she's with us, I'm going to fight for her," he said, "I know that it is not...not likely she will wake again, but I will never give up."

"Me neither," Lorna managed.

"Me too," said Anya.

Her father smiled at them, but he seemed far away somehow.

"I just wanted you both to know that," he said, "We don't give up on each other."

Lorna could hear the pain in his voice, but it was hardening now. She knew his thoughts must be turning to Shaw, the monster that had taken her mother from her. Her own heart hardened then. Shaw and Emma. They were going to pay.

* * *

"So, you grew up here?" Moira asked.

Charles nodded. She had expected him to be proprietorial as he looked around his house, but all she could see was a kind of tired resignation. One of his hands rested on the wall. Moira thought she saw some chip marks in the wood, as though something had been tossed against it.

"Charles?" she asked.

He coughed.

"Yes," he said, "It belonged to my father, but he died when I was little. I spent several years with my mother's family in England before we moved up here for good because of the war. I'm afraid that the damage to my accent had already been done."

"It was either a English accent or a New York one," she said, "I think that you got the better deal out of that particular exchange."

Charles nodded, giving her the boyish smile which was quickly becoming his trademark. She could see the undercurrent of nerves in it though. Moira figured that it was because the last time they had been alone and talked to each other had resulted in her telling him to go away.

She had done the right thing; she was sure of that. It just stood to reason that the first time she met a clever, funny, accepting, handsome man he had been the one that she couldn't have. Not if she wanted her career in the CIA to remain intact.

Judging by the way he carried on afterwards she doubted if it affected him. That had hurt, more than she'd wanted to admit, and it had made her angry. Her feelings for him were still locked up inside of her, but they had to stay there: locked. The mission wasn't over, and she wasn't going to jeopardize it because she was attracted to her coworker.

The tension might have another cause though. She saw him looking around the house with something like a sigh, and she remembered Raven doing something similar. It wasn't her place to question him, she was a friend, she hoped, but not on intimate terms. No, she had made sure of that.

Still, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Do you have good memories here?" Moira asked.

Charles looked back at her. His smile began to slip.

"Some are better than others," he said.

She frowned, waiting for an elaboration. Charles looked over at the chipped wall. Moira thought for a moment. While her powers of reasoning had been honed in the CIA while pouring through data sheets, they had other uses.

She'd seen a photo of his mother during the basic tour. She had been a pretty, slender woman. She'd worn high heels, and Moira figured that the most exercise she got was horseback riding. Moira doubted that she would have the strength to throw something hard enough to do that much damage to the wall.

"Your mother remarried, didn't she?" Moira asked.

Charles turned back to her, surprised.

"Yes, yes she did," he said, "Some man named Marko. We didn't get on. I was...he already had a son, and I was rather different from him."

She gave him an even look. There was quite a bit that he wasn't saying in that sentence. Moira wondered how many beatings he had took, how far he had gone to protect Raven, how much strength it took to reenter that house.

He sighed when she continued to look.

"You must stop doing that," Charles said.

"It's alright," she said, "At least you know that I'm not reading your mind when I do it."

Moira realized how that must have sounded, and she laughed as fast as she could to show it was a joke. He chuckled.

"No, I suppose not," Charles said, "But I've stayed out since...well, that night."

He scratched the back of his head. Moira looked at him, expecting to see awkwardness. Instead she saw a brief flash of pain in his eyes.

"I am sorry about that," he said.

"Apology accepted," Moira said.

"No," Charles said, "I mean it."

His voice was earnest, even a little strained. She cocked her head, and she saw the pain flash in his eyes again. Moira prided herself on never being wrong, on knowing how to read people. It appeared that, despite her original assessment, she had been wrong about Charles's feelings.

It didn't change anything about her career, but it did change something.

"Hey, Professor!"

Hank waved at him from the top of the stairs. Moira crossed her arms, more startled than she would like to admit.

"I've finished with Mrs. Lensherr's machines," he said, "And I checked out that room upstairs you old me about. It's perfect, so I put my equipment there. And it's nearly five-"

"Yes, of course," said Charles, "I figured we should run some laps, just see where everyone is in their physical progress. Go easy on the first day."

He turned to her then, his eyes hopeful.

"We're just starting, so small steps would be ideal," he said, "Test the waters."

Moira hesitated, knowing only too well what he was implying. There was something so earnest and honest in them, and Moira's heart beat a little faster. Once all of this was over, he might not be her co-worker anymore. More than that, a serious relationship would be viewed by the command differently than a one night fling.

She just had to make sure that she knew what she was getting herself into.

"Yes," she said at last, "Very small ones."


	17. Chapter 17

October 8, 1962

Alex pulled on his sweatshirt and headed towards the lobby. He was going to meet Charles for a training session, although he didn't think they were very productive. He'd already set the bomb shelter on fire twice. Charles was trying to teach him about focus, but he didn't think that it was helping.

He tugged at the sweater collar. It was irritating, but at least he'd made short work of the sleeves. Alex took the shortcut through the kitchen and caught sight of the massive stack of newspapers on the table.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Alex had a while before he had to meet Charles. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been so obsessed with meeting his deadlines, but he figured that had something to do with the vague urge that it would be good if he tried and to not be such a pessimist. Darwin told him that Charles was really helping him with his powers. He'd already seen his friend's armor begin to improve even before threats hit him.

Hank also seemed to be improving, although Alex still had trouble standing him. He was just so polite, so well-spoken, the kind of boy who had probably been handed honors and scholarships since he was a child because he was smart. He was outstanding, and he chose to be nervous about a safe, useful mutation like yeti feet. What a dweeb.

Alex scratched the back of his neck and he flipped through a few of the newspapers. The adults were all occupied with the news now, and they watched it almost obsessively. Growing up in the back alleys he'd figured that, if they were all going to die from an atomic bomb, then he would prefer not to know about it. Besides, it might be a welcome reprieve.

The headlines were bleak: not that he'd been expecting anything else. He remembered a time when he had been worried, although that had been years ago. His father had told him that nuclear war was inevitable, but he'd also told him that America would strike first, that Russia didn't have a prayer. If something did happen though, he should take Scott into the basement with his mother. Things would be fine.

He let the newspapers fall onto the table with a snort. While Alex thought that his father had been a strong, smart man, his patriotism had blinded him to a few simple truths. Alex wasn't sure if Russia had become stronger since his father had told him what to do, or if he just saw things differently now. There was no guarantee that America would be able to preemptively strike. The world was a much more dangerous place.

Then again, at least he didn't have to worry about getting Scott into the basement now. He snarled at the thought and looked around the kitchen. He would have loved to have Scott there. His little brother had loved big places to play around in, to explore. He was the more adventurous and, if Alex had thought that he was naïve and trusting when he was younger, he had nothing on his brother.

There was a squeal from the next room.

"Lorna, put me down!"

Although the entreaty seemed like it should be earnest, it was punctuated with a giggle. Alex peered out of the kitchen and saw Lorna with Anya. Anya had her hands wrapped around her sister's neck and was laughing as Lorna twirled her around.

His first instinct was to take the longer route to the lobby. They hadn't seen him, and he had some spare time. Although Lorna's prickly responses hadn't chased him off, he rather enjoyed the verbal battles, even Alex knew that he needed to leave her and her family alone. Susanna wasn't exactly dead, but he knew that it was unlikely that she would ever really be alive again. Lorna and Anya had effectively lost their mother.

The feeling was a familiar one, which meant that his avoidance wasn't entirely altruistic. He didn't want to remember any of those feelings any more than he already did. The pain of his lost twelve-year-old self was one that he carried close to himself. He remembered fighting some of the orderlies, screaming that they were all lying. He'd demanded his parents, and then, because even if his parents were gone Scott wouldn't be, his brother. They had refused him on both terms, sedated him, and it had taken him days to accept the truth.

All that time he'd just wanted to be left alone. No one had given him that time though. The orderlies had constantly treated the burns on his back and legs from the fire, burns that had faded or turned into splotchy scars. Some of the shredded pieces of parachute had also burnt his chest. While he was happy to tear off the sleeves of his sweater, he was never going to go shirtless. He didn't like people seeing his scars.

They had asked him questions that he didn't know the answer to, and sent him to a place where children still plied him with questions. People kept arguing with him too, and in the end, he found it was better to just hit someone than speak. So it would be better to leave Lorna and Anya alone.

However, he stopped and leaned against the door frame. Anya seemed happy, her older sister spinning her around as she tugged on the drawstrings of her sweater. He could see sadness in both of their eyes, but it was glazed over by the emotions of the minute. There was something beautiful about it, the two of them drawing strength from each other.

Alex's head began hurting, and he rubbed his temples.

"You alright again?"

He blinked and saw Anya staring at him, her brown eyes aglow. Lorna was setting her down on her feet.

"Yeah," Alex grinned, deciding it would be best to play it off, "Again. Just a little tired."

"Right," said Lorna.

She gestured to the couch.

"The couch would probably be more comfortable than the doorframe," she said.

"Is that an invitation?" he asked.

"More of an all-clear," said Lorna, "I won't be twirling Anya around anymore, so you don't have to worry about her foot smacking you in the face."

"Nice," Alex said.

He jumped over the couch and slid down into one of the seats.

"Can you do anything without being dramatic?" Lorna asked.

"Nope," said Alex.

Anya scrambled onto the couch. She peered at him.

"You're not alright," she said.

"Come on munchkin," Alex groaned.

Anya laughed and put a hand on his forehead. He glanced at Lorna, who was fighting, and failing, to suppress a smile.

"You don't have a fever," said Anya.

Part of him wanted to tell the child to get the hell away, but again, she was six. He found his mind wandering to Scott. He'd be ten now. He hated Anya for reminding him of his brother so much, almost as much as he loved her for it.

"I'm glad," Alex said.

Anya took her hand away.

"I think I'm gonna be a doctor when I get older," she said.

"Oh?" Alex said.

"Yeah. Because I'm not cool like you and Lorna," she said, "So I wanna be able to help anyway."

Lorna shook her head and sat down next to her sister.

"Just because you're not a mutant doesn't mean that you're not special," Lorna said.

Anya nodded, but Alex could see that she wasn't convinced.

"I'm gonna be just like Hank," she said, "Besides the hand-feet bit."

Alex snorted.

"Why do you want to be like that moron?" he asked.

"You say about the guy with a higher IQ than all of us combined?" Lorna said.

Alex got ready to make another comment but Anya, obviously oblivious to the subject change, said:

"Because he's helping mama. And I wanna do that."

Lorna tensed and Alex winced. Anya was so earnest and open.

"I'm already helping put in the cords and needles," said Anya, "And I brush her hair and make sure that the bags are full. When she wakes up, she's going to be really happy about how much I'm helping out."

Alex could see that tears were gathering in Lorna's eyes. Although he just wanted to leave the room, he knew that he had to say something. Leaving wasn't really an option. He gave a playful tug on one of Anya's pigtails, fighting to say the words he needed to say.

"Well, yeah," he said, "I know it always made my mom happy when I got her breakfast in bed when she was sick."

He shrugged.

"You gotta be responsible when your parents need ya," Alex said, "Sounds like you already figured that out though."

Anya pushed his hand away from her pigtail, but she was smiling amiably. A heavy footstep echoed outside the room and Anya slid off the couch.

"Daddy's here," she said.

"I'll see you at dinner," Lorna said.

Anya ran from the room into the lobby. Lorna looked at Alex, her eyes hard.

"I'm not sure whether or not I should thank you for what you just did," she said.

"I'd definitely go with the thanking," Alex said coldly.

"Anya doesn't really understand," Lorna said, "She thinks that mom could wake up any day."

"And you think she's never going to wake up?" asked Alex.

"I hope she's going to wake up," said Lorna, "It's different. All that stuff about making your mom breakfast in bed, was that even true?"

Anger made him clench his fists.

"You don't believe me?" he asked.

"You don't strike me as the type," Lorna said.

"And what type do I strike you as?" asked Alex, his words venomous, "Because, as it happens, yeah, I did that. I also helped my brother with his homework and my dad with chores around the house. This might shock you greenie, but I wasn't always a jailbird."

Lorna paused, and cocked her head. He knew that he should probably have let her get her digs in, she was upset after what happened to her mother, but he didn't make allowances. Not for people like Lorna who were obviously stronger than that.

The thought caught him off guard, but he continued to glare at her. She paused.

"Sorry," she said.

"Right," Alex muttered.

She gave him a side look.

"That sounds like a nice family," she said.

"It was," Alex said.

He winced at the words and looked away. He hadn't come into the room to tell Lorna about his dead family, no matter how tough and pretty she was. Alex should probably head out to the lobby, get ready for his training session.

A hand touched his shoulder. He forced himself not to turn.

"You must have loved them," she said.

"How could I not?" he asked, "They were...you know."

Her grip on his shoulder intensified. She did know. Alex cleared his throat and, against his better judgment, decided he should be the one doing the comforting. He still couldn't turn around though.

"It happened five years ago," he said, "It still hurts but, one of the things that's the most painful, is that my little brother died too. The plane was going down, and there were only two parachutes. Of course my parents gave them to me and my brother. He was so small, so I was in charge of deploying his parachute. I did, but...he died anyway."

Alex forced himself to look back. Lorna was giving him a look of shared sympathy, the only thing that let him continue on.

"I know you blame yourself for what happened to your mom," Alex said, "It's in the way you look when her name is mentioned."

Her jaw tightened, but he continued.

"It's not your fault you know, just like what happened to my brother wasn't my fault," he said, "I did what I was supposed to, but I felt responsible. I still do. But whatever happened didn't happen because of me. It doesn't make the guilt go away, but knowing that helps."

"She sacrificed herself for me," Lorna said.

"Don't think about it like that," said Alex, "She chose to save you. Just like my parents chose to save me."

"That doesn't help," Lorna said, "Even you said you still believe it's your fault. What good does knowing it's not help?"

"It helps you get up in the morning," Alex said.

Lorna looked at him a moment longer.

"Why do you go around pretending like you're such a jackass?" she asked.

The question threw him. He laughed, swallowing the lump that had been forming in his throat.

"I am kind of a jackass," he said.

"Not as much as you pretend to be," Lorna said.

"Maybe not," said Alex, "But it's kind of easier not to care."

"I think that makes it harder," Lorna said.

He tried to smile, wondering what to say, but a voice cut through his thoughts.

_"Alex? Where are you?"_

"Professor's using his mind-thing again," Alex said, getting up, "I'd better get going."

"Right," said Lorna.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and began walking out of the room. Just before he left he looked over his shoulder. Lorna was still looking at him and, for a minute, their eyes met. Then, feeling strange, he left.


	18. Chapter 18

October 13, 1962

Lorna leaned up against the building, panting. She'd been running laps since dawn, trying to keep fit. Every time she got tired she remembered the look on the look in Shaw's eyes before he called Emma over. She imagined that it was his face beneath her feet, and that she was pounding that smug grin into nothing.

Her mind was often with her mother. Anya, with no powers to train, had taken over many smaller tasks in caring for their mother. She had told Alex the truth when she said that her sister helped with the IV's. Hank said that he was impressed with her progress. As a result she had ended up spending a lot of time with the young scientist. She didn't even mind being without family members around him. Hank and Charles were the only one that got that privilege now, although she still wouldn't stay in a room alone.

She wished that was all that was on her mind. It was a simple problem. It was painful, but still simple. She knew that they needed to get Shaw and Emma, and her and her family needed to make her mother comfortable. Lorna knew what to do physically, even if her mental anguish could feel crushing sometimes.

Her father trained with her. She could see a concentrated, furious glint in his eyes when he spoke of why they needed to focus. Lorna knew that he would never let that night repeat itself. He was also scaring her in his intensity though. She had never heard so much biting hate in his voice before.

All the same, she knew what to do in this situation. Her father was in control and she needed to follow what he said. He knew what was best. Her mother hadn't understood why he needed to go so far sometimes, but she knew that his motives were pure. He was trying to keep them safe. Again, it was simple.

Lorna had no idea what to do about Alex though. That wasn't simple. Ever since Alex had talked to her she had seen him more around the manor. She had probably never looked for him before, but now she seemed to be noticing him everywhere.

He seemed different now that she knew more about him. Alex was something of a friend now, and someone that she could talk to frankly. He was still arrogant and brash, but she recognized what that meant. She'd put that shield up around herself, too afraid and angry to forgive her school mates for what they had done when they were younger.

She didn't know what was happening. His smile seemed brighter than she had thought it was. He could live with himself every day while hating the part of himself that had, in his mind, let his brother die. Alex had been fighting that for five years without seeking help from anyone.

It was stupid, but it was something that she would do. He hadn't told her that he hadn't talked to someone about it, but she imagined that it would have been easier for him if he'd sought help. It wasn't him though. Why bother someone else with his feelings? It wasn't their business. It would have been easy to go insane with those kind of standards. Yet, he'd refused to bow or break under that pressure.

Now she was tired though, tired of running, tired of thinking about things. She picked up the towel and water bottle that she had put there earlier and began to wipe her neck and face. They were still waiting for some more information on what was going on in Cuba before they made their move, but she heard that things were getting plenty tense.

She walked into the building and saw Raven lifting weights.

"Had a good run?" she asked.

"It was alright," Lorna said.

She sat down and took a swig of her water bottle. Raven nodded at her and racked her weights for a moment. Hank walked by the window, looking exhausted. He managed a shy wave at Raven, who smiled back. They did that a lot.

Once he was gone Lorna looked at her hands. An idea was forming in her head, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

"Raven, why are you going after Hank?" she asked.

Raven frowned and got up.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, why did you start drawing to each other when you met?" Lorna said.

"You mean why I like him?" said Raven.

Lorna managed a shrug.

"Behind those glasses, he's actually rather cute," Raven said, "He's smart, a mutant, nice."

She gave a shrug of one of her shoulders.

"I also think that he might get what it means to have to hide," she said, "No offense, but you can dye your hair and join society any time you want. Hank will always need a bigger pair of shoes to hide his feet, and I'll have to do this."

Raven gestured to her present form.

"That's something that people like my brother will never get," she said.

Lorna cleared her throat. Raven was the closest thing that Lorna had had to a friend her own age, but she had a habit of turning the talk to her mutation.

"Um, but that's how you know you like someone?" asked Lorna, "I mean, you share a few things like that?"

Raven frowned again.

"Pretty much for me," she said, "Why do you want to know?"

"I was...I was just wondering about my parents," Lorna said.

The lie was the first thing that she could think of, and it made her ashamed when Raven's eyes reflected sympathy. How could she use her mother's condition to get herself out of an awkward situation? She brushed her hair behind her back.

"Never mind," she said, "I'll just get going-"

"Hey," said Raven.

She gave her a tentative smile.

"I think that your parents really loved each other," Raven said.

Was that supposed to help? Lorna had known that her parents had felt intensely about each other ever since she was six. She didn't need reassurance on that count.

"That's not it," Lorna said.

"He's not gonna give up on her, and no one else is either," said Raven, "I hear that my brother is still looking into her mind in case something can be done."

"They're all working really hard," Lorna said.

She just sighed and ran a hand through her hair. It was sweaty, and she grimaced.

"It's nothing Raven," she said, "Thank you for trying to help, but I just don't want to talk about it."

"But-"

"When a girl says she doesn't want to talk about something, she tends to mean it," Darwin said, walking into the room.

"And how would you know that?" Raven asked.

"Adapt to survive, remember?"

Lorna laughed. She got up, taking another gulp of her water.

"We're all sorry about your mom though," Darwin said, "She was a nice woman."

She continued to drink her water. She'd heard enough exclamations of pity over the past few days to be tired of them. While she was sure they were genuine, she wanted something more concrete. She wanted to take down Shaw with the people with her, not hear their views on what a great person her mom was and how little she deserved what had happened to her.

It was another thing that Lorna already knew. However, she had a feeling that getting angry would create more problems then it would fix.

"Thanks," she said.

She took another swig of water.

"I've got to go catch Charles," she said, "I've got a training session soon."

"Good luck," Darwin said, "But first, I wanna show you something. Throw something at me."

Lorna rolled her eyes.

"Look, last time we did that it didn't work out so well," she said.

"Come on, it'll be goo practice for me," Darwin said.

She rolled her eyes again and lobbed her water bottle at him. Seconds before it hit his torso his skin turned to water, allowing it to pass through. His flesh solidified again and the water bottle clattered to the floor.

"Nifty, huh?" he asked.

"Nifty," Lorna agreed.

"Your brother has a knack for this kind of stuff Raven," Darwin said, "Lorna, you'll be moving buildings by the time he's through."

"I hope so," she said, "Shaw won't be able to do much if a building falls on him."

She pulled her towel around her neck and headed down to the lobby. She heard the TV going in the next room. Moira was watching it with a notepad and a pen, looking concerned. Sean was sitting next to her, his face grim.

He looked up when he saw her, and nodded towards the TV.

"It's getting bad," he said, "I just...my family lives in New York City you know? That's a major population center, and I'm sure the Ruskies...yeah."

"It's been getting bad for a while," said Lorna.

She hated to sound insensitive, but the tensions on the TV weren't a new phenomenon. Surely Moira would agree with her.

"This is different," Moira said, "I've been looking at the broadcasts for the past few days, and it seems like the hysteria is growing. Supermarkets are being cleaned out, people are building bomb shelters."

She shook her head.

"It won't help them if there is nuclear war," Moira said.

"Wait, what?" Lorna asked.

Moira looked up at Lorna. She could see guilt in Moira's eyes, and she wondered if she wasn't going to explain her statement. Lorna gave her a cold look back. She was sick of people treating her like a child or like she was fragile after everything she had been through. The only ones who hadn't treated her that way were Charles, Erik, and Alex. They understood her.

"If an atom bomb drops, the area of devastation is immense," Moira said, "If there was an all-out nuclear war, then a flimsy bomb shelter won't protect anyone."

"But we had drills in school," Lorna said, "We got under our desks-"

"It was a lie," said Moira.

Her voice was blunt and irritated. Lorna stared at her, and Moira stared back. There was no excuse in her expression, as though she fully knew what it was that she had told her. Lorna felt her respect increase in direct proportion to her horror.

"I see," Lorna said.

She tugged on her towel. For so long she had only thought of Shaw in terms of how he affected her family. Nuclear war wasn't good, and she would stop it if she could, but that wasn't why she was after Shaw. He needed to be put away before he could hurt her family again.

It looked like he needed to be put away before he could hurt a lot of other peoples' families too.

"Then we'd best get Shaw before he turns the earth into a fried fritter," she said.

She wiped her face and walked out of the room, thinking about what Moira had said. Automatically her mind went to Anya, sweet, innocent Anya who had forced herself to grow up so she could care for their mother. If they lost, then even the non-combatants could be killed.

A sudden sense of just how serious things were. She looked around the empty lobby, deep in thought. How could she have seen such a narrow view of events to only think of herself and her family? While her mother and sister gave her something to fight for, she knew that she had to try to fight for the world too.

"Lorna?"

She turned. Charles was standing there, looking as though he was tired. She supposed that he had been running with Hank.

"Are you ready to start?" he asked.

Lorna thought back to what Moira had told her, about her sister, mother, and the faceless millions who were depending on her and their team. For the first time, she felt like she was part of the world outside her home.

"Yes," she said, "I am."


	19. Chapter 19

October 15, 1962

Lorna brushed her hair out of her eyes so she could get a better view. Only a few days ago Charles had announced that he thought Sean's powers could help him fly at dinner. She'd been quiet when he'd announced it, but it had been funnier than she'd wanted to admit. Lorna inwardly laughed at the idea of awkward Sean gliding through the clouds. Alex also thought it was amusing as well, because he wasn't quite as discreet as her and burst into laughter when Charles had finally come to the point.

It had taken Hank a while to rig something up, but she'd seen what looked like a striped cape with a harness. She'd actually seen it before most of the others. He'd brought it into her mother's room once or twice to work on it while he was waiting for readings to come through.

Anya had been impressed and begged for Hank to make one for her. With such praise Hank had proudly shown Sean the cape at dinner time. Sean had just looked at it and gulped. It had taken Charles another day to talk him into trying it out.

As such, they had all decided it would be interesting to watch. There was only one window that they could really get a good view from, and they had all rushed to it. It was crowded, between her father and the other teens. She was practically squashed next to Alex, but she wanted a good view and wasn't about to move.

Darwin hadn't jostled for position. He was easily taller than any of them, except for her father, who had gotten there earlier.

"Think he's gonna fly?" asked Darwin.

"I think he's gonna face plant in that bush," Alex asked, nudging her, "How about you?"

She nudged him back.

"I think it's kind of harsh to want him to fall face first into a bush," Lorna said.

"But do you think he's going to?" asked Alex.

Lorna laughed.

"I think there's a really good chance," she said.

"Don't have much faith in Hank, huh?" asked Alex.

"I have perfect faith in him," Lorna said, watching as they suited Sean up behind the closed window, "I don't think Sean does though."

He smirked at her, but she saw his eyes dart to her father before looking away. When she followed his line of sight she saw that her father was glaring daggers at him. She had to do a double take. It only lasted a second before it became neutral and she began to doubt that she'd seen it.

When she looked back at Alex he was looking away and edging further away from her. He wouldn't look back at her for the next several minutes. She wondered if there was something on her face, but that wouldn't account for her father.

The window opened. She leaned forward as Sean sat down on the ledge, Charles patting his back and Hank close behind. Although she couldn't see Raven, she knew that she was there to support hank. Lorna thought about what she'd said about liking Hank, and Lorna's thoughts turned to Alex.

She brushed them away irritably. What a thing to think about at a time like this.

"I trust you," Sean said.

"Good," Charles said.

"I don't trust him," he said, pointing to Hank.

Lorna covered her hand with her mouth, although she was shaking with laughter. She closed her eyes and, when she opened them, she saw Sean jumping through the window. He gave a short cry before planting himself head-first in the shrubbery.

Alex burst out into laughter, filling in the air. It was infectious and Lorna doubled over. It made her unsteady. She took a step back to steady herself, accidentally stepping on Darwin's foot. He made a small sound and she stumbled, losing her balance entirely.

She began moving her feet to regain her posture, but she needn't have bothered. A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her up. The yank was too strong though and she winced from the pain in her arm. One moment she was thinking about where to place her feet, and the next she was staring into Alex's face.

Of course, she started to realize just where she was in proximity to him. His body was pressed up against to hers and he looked surprised. A crimson stain started to spread across his cheeks and she could feel her own breath quicken for no real reason.

"Nice reflexes Alex," her father said dryly.

Alex let go of her and coughed. Lorna smoothed out her shirt.

"Sorry about tripping you," Darwin said.

"It's fine. I had it you know," she said.

She looked at Alex, who was leaning on the window frame and looking out. The blush was still on his cheeks, and she remembered the warmth of his hand on her wrist. She'd been able to feel each of his breaths when pressed against his chest, and she felt warmth blossom inside her when thinking about it.

Lorna felt strange and alien at the thought. She wanted to know what it meant, to ask someone, but she had the feeling that she couldn't speak of it. Not in front of her father. Not when she had the feeling she knew what it was.

It wasn't as though she was dumb. Alex was looking further down, as though trying to look anywhere but at her. Lorna's father was giving Alex a hard look, and she struggled to say something to diffuse what she was rapidly recognizing as tension.

Luckily, she didn't need to.

"Hey," Darwin said, "Sean still in the shrubbery?"

"No," Alex said, "He's got bits of sticks and leaves in his hair though."

He laughed, although there was a hint of nervousness in it.

"It makes him look like a Christmas tree," Alex said.

She stifled laughter and jostled her way to the window. One of her fingers brushed Alex's hand and she felt herself smile. There would be time to figure out just what was going on later, but for now she could just enjoy it.

* * *

"How did it go?" Anya asked.

Hank winced and put the cape over the chair. Anya had been the only one who hadn't seen his humiliation because she'd been busy clipping her mother's nails. Hank admired the girl for thinking of that. Most people would get brushing hair or turning them to avoid bedsores, but she knew that her nails had to be clipped as well.

The tougher things were, of course, handled by Hank or other members of her family. Although Anya was determined, she wasn't strong enough to help turn her mother over. She was barely tall enough to see over the top of the bed.

"Did he fly?" she asked.

"No," Hank said.

He tapped the machine that monitored Susanna's heart rate. No change.

"Why not?" asked Anya.

Hank scratched the back of his neck.

"I think that he needs more altitude," Hank said, "I don't know how to safely test that one out. A few more calculations and I might figure it out. Not sure if he'll be willing to try it again."

"He should," said Anya.

"And why's that?" said Hank.

"Because he should want ta fly," Anya said.

She finished clipping Susanna's nails and put the clippers on the side board. She put her mothers hand on her stomach so that it mirrored the other one.

"I think he wants to live more than he wants to fly," Hank said.

Anya laughed and scooched herself into a chair.

"How's that thing for Alex coming?" she asked.

He winced at the thought of making something for Alex. All Sean had done was grimace at him for the failure. The last time the chest plate had malfunctioned Alex's frustrated shouts had left Hank convinced that he was never going to help him do anything.

However, Charles's calm inquiries and his own curiosity had forced him back to the lab.

"Fine," Hank said, "Still needs some tweaking."

"That's awesome," Anya said.

She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. Hank refilled Susanna's IV bag.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" she asked.

He looked over at her.

"You want to tell me a secret?" he asked.

Anya nodded.

"I haven't told anyone," she said.

He grinned, deciding to play along.

"Not your father?" he asked.

"Nope," Anya said, "I think he already knows. Or it would make him angry."

Hank frowned, wondering just what it was that Anya could do that would make her father angry. So far he'd only ever seen Erik treat Anya as though she could do no wrong. It didn't surprise Hank. From what little he'd seen of Susanna, Anya mirrored her mother's actions on a much more childish level.

"Not your sister?" he asked.

"If I tell Lorna, then it would ruin it," said Anya.

Hank chuckled.

"Alright, tell me," he said.

"You hafta come over here," Anya said, "I can't have anyone overhear it."

Hank sighed inwardly, but he'd been the one to play along. So he finished hanging the IV bag and walked over. She beckoned him a little closer and he leaned in.

"I think he likes my sister," she said.

"Who?" asked Hank.

"Alex," Anya said.

Hank furrowed his brow. He thought back to all the times he'd seen Alex and Lorna together. The first time he'd seen what he assumed was Alex trying to flirt with Lorna, she'd blown him off. He'd noted it, because even then he'd disliked Alex and thought it was funny.

He'd been rather occupied by Raven's unexplainable, but very welcome, interest in him since then. Now that he thought about it though, there was a marked change in their behavior towards each other since coming to the mansion.

"Huh," Hank said.

"I know, right?" said Anya, "I don't wanna talk to her about it cause she'd just say no. She doesn't like talking about stuff like that. Or people at school. Or other kids."

Anya scratched her head.

"She talks about my friends," she said, "But not really about hers."

"They might be a little old for you to talk about," Hank said.

"But it's just you all," said Anya, "You all talk to me."

Hank made a face.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

"For someone so smart you make it difficult to ex-plain," Anya said, her voice very matter-of-fact, "She didn't have any friends til you all."

Hank felt something inside his chest freeze.

"Really?" he managed weakly.

"Yeah," said Anya.

She suddenly looked worried.

"Is that wrong?" she asked.

"Not here," Hank said, "I didn't have any friends before I came here."

Anya nodded, satisfied.

"Because you're all awesome, you can be friends," she said.

"Something like that," Hank said.

She clicked her feet together.

"You all and your awesome hand-feet," she said.

"They're not that awesome," Hank said.

He thought of the serum that he was developing. Hank figured that he was only a few days away from completion, a few days away from not having to hide anymore.

"You might not be seeing them in the future," he said.

"Why not?" Anya asked.

"That's my secret," he said.

Anya rested her head on her knees, pouting. He shouldn't have mentioned it to her. Hank had to change the subject before she pursued.

"But Alex and Lorna, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," Anya said, "I think they'd be good for each other. They're both funny, but Alex can be a little mean."

"A little?" said Hank.

Anya nodded, obviously not understanding sarcasm.

"Lorna won't put up with that though," she said, "She'd beat it outta him."

"I'm sure," Hank said.


	20. Chapter 20

October 18, 1962

Charles sat next to Susanna's bed. He often felt helpless there, and he was glad that Anya wasn't there that day. She always watched him with such intent eyes, expecting that he would wake up her mother at any moment.

He had the feeling that he was never going to wake up the woman lying next to him . Emma had done her job well. He'd searched for an emotion somewhere deep inside her mind, something that he could pull on and bring her back.

Yet, every time he went into her mind he hit a brick wall. It was painful and he often had to carry around aspirin so he could take a few after he was done searching for her mind. Charles managed to struggle through it, but even if he could get a good look around, there was nothing there.

Logically he knew that Emma couldn't have erased Susanna's mind. For various reasons he'd tried erasing people's memories. It had never worked. He'd been reduced to covering up their memories with something else, or just making them so fuzzy that they couldn't access them. They couldn't be gotten rid of entirely. He didn't have much practice with doing it, but he knew that the mind was much tougher than people gave it credit for.

Emma had taken this as far as it could be taken, but he held onto some hope that the mind could hold on. Susanna was still alive. If Emma had truly destroyed her mind, then she wouldn't be breathing anymore. Perhaps Emma knew how to only destroy her memories, thoughts, emotions, the part that made Susanna Susanna, but he had the feeling that it wasn't that simple.

An emotion or thought must be beating in her mind somewhere to keep it alive. That lead to other ideas, ideas that he didn't want to share with Erik. Shaw had wanted to hurt Erik: that much was clear. But what if he wanted to hurt Susanna too? What if there was a way to keep her dead to the world, but trapped within her own mind, going through the same torture that her family was currently experiencing? What if that was happening and he couldn't help her?

As it was just a theory, he'd kept silent on it. It was both hopeful and terrible. It must be causing Susanna pain if it was true, but it would also give him something to try to salvage if it was. A double-edged sword if he ever saw one.

Looking for that thought was like looking for a needle in a haystack though. In this case, the needle might not even exist and the hay was painful. He removed himself from her mind. His head was pounding, but he stayed sitting for a moment longer.

What would it take to bring that emotion out, bring that thought to the forefront? It needed a stimulus, and once it was there he had the feeling that he could pull it out. If it was enough of a stimulus then it might be enough to bring her back to herself.

It was all conjecture though. He got up and popped a few aspirin. Charles dry-swallowed them and leaned up against the doorframe. He looked at the love of his friend's life, regret coursing through him.

"I'm sorry I'm not stronger," he said.

He opened the door and left the room, putting his hands in his pockets. Charles had to get moving. Alex had another training session coming up in two hours, and Hank had assured him that he had fixed the problems with the energy converter. Charles hoped so. Alex's faith in Hank was tenuous at best.

It was better that Charles had something other than Susanna's absent mind to work on. He had to get the small group together, teach them to reach their full potential. Raven used her powers 24/7, but she wasn't used to using it on a dime for big things.

Even Erik, who had been experimenting with his powers, still had yet to really push himself. For over a decade he had only done small things with his powers, concentrating on raising his daughters and living his life. He'd only ever truly connected his powers to fighting, and he'd tried to leave that behind.

Then there was Lorna. She was eager to learn, eager to fight. He saw the same seeds of vengeance in her that he saw in Erik. It was tempered somehow though, perhaps by her mother's gentling presence since she was a child. Like her father, she was sharp and willing to work with others if it achieved her goal. It was cynical, but also smart. No, Charles wasn't really worried about putting her on the field.

He was getting a little worried about her personal choices though. Alex wasn't the type of boy that a father wanted their daughter to get involved with. Erik had spotted Alex's continuing interest in Lorna fairly early on. Charles had hoped that the boy would have the good sense to quit after Erik had threatened him that first night. Apparently not.

He'd thought that it wouldn't go any further, but Charles had noticed Lorna reciprocating these feelings. At the same time he doubted she was fully aware of it. He wondered if Erik had noticed it. He turned the situation over a few times in his head. No, he couldn't see it ending well.

A report caught his ears as he walked past the living room. He looked in and saw Moira sitting on the couch, taking notes. Charles knew that she'd been listening to the news reports voraciously in the past couple of days, as well as getting bulletins from the CIA on the situation through random phone calls from Levine. He'd wanted to keep their location secret and asked her if she knew she could trust her partner not to tell anyone. The cold look he'd gotten in return had silenced him on the subject.

It had provoked a small wave of jealousy, although he wasn't really entitled to it. No, Moira wasn't in love with Levine. She just trusted him unquestioningly, which was probably more than she did with him. That alone was enough to make him jealous.

She looked up when he walked in. Charles gave her a small smile and sat down next to her. Jealousy aside, he'd told her that he wanted to start things over again. As good as anyway. That much was true. He wanted to go back before he'd made a fool of himself trying to hurry things along.

It meant that he could talk to her now, and more often.

"How long have you been doing that?" Charles asked.

"Today, or in general?" said Moira, not looking up.

"In general."

"Since we arrived," Moira said, still writing, "I don't have any superpowers to train, so I need to keep up to date somehow."

"That's not fair. You helped me with Sean and Darwin," said Charles, "At least I know now that Darwin can create a kind of sound blocking mechanism."

"As I recall, helping you out with that resulted with my ear drums ringing for days afterwards," Moira said.

"Right, right," Charles said, "At least you didn't throw up later."

"Did you?" asked Moira.

He coughed.

"And you helped me pick out photos for Raven to practice with," Charles said.

"How is she?" asked Moira.

"Happy," Charles said, "She likes having so many other young people around. So she's been very sociable."

He frowned as a sudden thought hit him.

"Well, not with me," he said, "Or with Erik. I doubt she's said two words to him. Just to the younger crowd."

"Me neither for what that's worth," Moira said.

Charles forced himself to smile, suddenly feeling that he needed to change the subject.

"So, the news. No chance that the US has made a treaty with the Soviets?" he asked.

"Charles, I think there's a better chance of me becoming CIA director tomorrow," Moira said.

"So a good chance then?" he asked.

Moira put her pen down and shook her head.

"It means no," she said.

"I know," said Charles, "Though the CIA might wish that it made you director tomorrow. I'd certainly appreciate it. Maybe get some funding. The food bill for this place is becoming gastronomic."

Moira gave a small snort of laughter at the pun. His smile widened.

"I thought you were the rich boy," she said.

"No, it's no more than my mother would order for her dinner parties," Charles said, "Although I appreciate our mac and cheese nights much more than I ever appreciated those stuffy affairs."

He winced suddenly. Charles hated talking about his childhood. He wasn't sure what it was about Moira that led him to tell her so much about himself.

"At least you went to dinner parties when you were younger," she said, "My family wasn't big on those. Or socializing really."

"Why was that?" asked Charles.

"My parents weren't exactly likeable people," Moira said, "They um, they got into some debt when I was little."

She suddenly looked uncomfortable. Charles knew that he was walking on delicate ground.

"You don't have to go on," he said.

"No, it's actually alright," she said, "I ended up getting shipped over to Scotland for a bit. My aunt owns some property there. She was rather more sensible, and she ended up raising me. She was all about women making their own way in the world."

Moira tapped her notepad with her pen. Charles tried to picture the woman that had raised Moira. Would she look like her niece, or would she be something different? Either way, she would have had to be a formidable figure to raise such a confident, self-assured woman.

"She always told me that, if I believed I was right about something, I should go for it," said Moira, "I shouldn't let anyone stop me."

"Which is why a CIA agent hopped a plane to England to get an Oxford student to testify for her?" Charles said.

She laughed.

"Something like that," Moira said, "I can't imagine what she's going to say when she hears about all of this."

He couldn't either.

"Is this something you'll be able to talk to her about?" asked Charles, "Top secret and all of that."

Moira snorted.

"I imagine that the existence of mutants isn't going to remain top secret for too long after this," she said.

"No," Charles said, "No."

He crossed his arms and leaned back.

"And what's your theory on that?" he asked.

"My theory?"

"Yes," Charles said, "Erik says that he's not sure if we'll be accepted, or he did, a long time ago. We haven't talked about it recently. I say we will be. What do you say?"

Moira put her pen down. She got up and Charles wondered if he'd somehow offended her. Then she switched off the TV, putting her hand on the top of it.

"Charles, I don't think everyone will accept you," she said, "I know of too many people in office who are like Stryker, angry and frightened at the idea of anything that's different from the rest of us."

She took her hand off the TV.

"But I've also seen people who are willing to make things work," said Moira, "Platt might not have treated me as though I were a full agent, but he did understand what mutants really were."

"And what are we?" Charles asked.

She turned around and faced him.

"You're just people," she said, "Hard-working, honest people. When we found everyone you were all being so...normal. Darwin was trying to pay off his final year of college when we found him. Sean was just being a teenager. I hear he's on the soccer team at his school. Alex might have been a criminal, but he never used his powers when he broke the law, and he wanted a second chance. Isn't that what we want from people in difficult situations?"

She gestured around her.

"You were going to university, and Erik was raising a family," Moira said, "To me, it seems like mutants want exactly the same hopes and dreams as the rest of us. You just want to live your lives and be happy. It's not a goal that should be impossible because your DNA is different."

With a sigh she crossed her arms and faced him fully.

"Everyone should have that chance," she said.

Charles continued to look at her, his heart beating faster. Something was changing in the room, and it was setting his soul on fire. It had been a long time since he'd felt this particular feeling for anyone. All he wanted to do was cross the room and kiss her, tell her she was everything that he hoped humanity was deep inside.

He knew better than to ruin things a second time around though. So he just smiled.

"Too true," he said.


	21. Chapter 21

October 21, 1962

"You need to find a balancing point between rage and serenity," Charles said.

Erik sighed and turned away from the satellite. The past few days had been exhausting, leaving little time for his own training. He'd seen Hank beat Charles in a race, Raven change into several people in the space of seconds, the Soviets draw closer to the line, and Lorna make considerable progress. He'd also shoved Sean off a satellite and then heard that Hank had invented a way to direct Alex's powers.

He'd met the joyous announcement of Alex's progress with a dry smile. He still didn't like the little punk.

"Anger's worked so far," Erik said.

"Anger isn't enough."

He gave Charles a bitter look. For the first time in a long time he wanted to punch his friend. His head was still throbbing from trying to move the giant satellite, and he wished that Charles would stop lecturing him.

"What else is there?" he asked.

Charles clasped his hands behind his back, perhaps to tell him something hopeful about the future.

"No Charles," said Erik, "What else do you suppose is holding me together right now?"

He shook his head.

"My parents are dead, my life has been uprooted and shattered," Erik said, "My wife is..."

He clenched the railing, staring at the satellite. Not a day went by that he didn't visit Susanna. Anya was keeping up her self-imposed duties and Susanna looked as though she was just sleeping. Her hair was perfectly combed and her face washed. It reminded him a bit of the stories that he used to read his daughters about Sleeping Beauty and Snow White.

However, no matter how many kisses he placed on her lips, no matter how many times he reminded her of his feelings, she remained gone. Charles had made several forays into her mind and come up with nothing. It truly was a blank canvas, her brain good for nothing other than regulating her body's breathing.

"Erik," Charles said, "Try not to think about what you've lost, but rather what you've had."

Erik just bowed his head, his nails scraping across the top of the rails.

"Here," said Charles, "Do you mind if I-?"

He gestured to his head.

"Go ahead," Erik said.

Charles put his fingers to his head. Erik wondered what it was that he would pick out. There were, he knew, good memories, and for a moment he saw an image of a menorah, its warm glow illuminating the room. His own hand lit the candles for the first and, as he found, the last time.

Then the image changed.

_"To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part," she said._

_There was no hesitation in her voice, only honest sincerity. There was nothing insincere about her love. He found himself wondering yet again how he had managed to win her love, how he had the sheer nerve to claim such purity for his own._

_It didn't really matter whether or not he deserved her, or whether or not she would be better without him. She was giving herself to him voluntarily and vowing to stand next to him. The vows should have been made a long time ago, and he was only angry that he hadn't had the courage to keep her then._

_She turned her head towards the judge who, for the first time that Erik had seen him, smiled._

_"For as much as Erik and Susanna have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by joining hands," he said, "Now, by the authority vested in me by the State of Michigan and the Office of the Court, I pronounce you to be husband and wife and extend to you my best wishes for a successful and happy married life together. You may kiss the bride."_

_Erik let go of Susanna's hands and cupped her face. He leaned in and kissed her. She was his second chance at life, a chance to do things over, to have something approaching peace. It was impossible not to want to hold onto that._

_He let go of her face and let his hands enfold hers again. Next to him he heard the judge shut his book._

_"Also, a personal thanks for granting me the honor and privilege of extending the marriage vows," he said._

_Erik wanted to raise his eyebrows, but he decided against it. He supposed that the statement was just part of the official ceremony._

_"Now, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Lensherr?" he asked._

_Lorna let out a little squeak of excitement. Susanna smiled too. Finally, they were officially his._

He blinked and saw the lawn in front of him again. His face felt cold and he touched his cheek. Erik's fingers came away wet.

"What did you just do to me?" he asked.

"I just accessed the brightest corner of your memory system," Charles said, "It's a very beautiful memory Erik. Thank you."

Erik winced and bowed his head.

"I haven't thought of that day in a while," he said.

"Why not?" said Charles.

"It hurts."

Charles nodded. It was only then that Erik realized that there were tears on his eyes as well. His friend wiped them away.

"There's so much more to you than you know," Charles said, "Not just pain and anger. There's good too: I felt it."

Erik bit the inside of his cheek. It was a reproach, in Charles's way. They'd had far too many conversations about Erik's uncertainty about humans' reactions to mutants and his hate for Shaw. Susanna's conditions had overshadowed much of his anger at humanity, but they both knew it still existed.

"When you can access all that, you will posses a power no one can match," Charles said, "Not even me."

He hit him on the shoulder.

"So come on. Try again," he said.

Erik looked back at the satellite and clenched his teeth. He put out his hands and twisted his fingers. He could feel his hands shaking. The memory of his wedding and his mother's regard were swirling in his mind, but in the back of his mind he could feel the desire to avenge them.

At the moment, he was somewhere in between them. As soon as the thought struck his mind, he felt the satellite begin to turn. The grating, scraping sound filled his ears as the satellite suddenly faced them.

He let his hands fall down, grinning but exhausted. When he looked back he could see that Charles was smiling as well.

"Knew you could do it," Charles said.

Erik continued to grin. There was no way that Shaw could stand up against him now.

"I want you to know that you are lucky, in some ways," Charles said.

"How?" Erik said.

"Losing love like that, well, I can't even begin to imagine the pain that it caused," Charles said, "But nor can I imagine the joy that it would bring."

He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Actually, I think that I have some idea of that," he said, "I'd like to know more actually."

Erik raised his eyebrows.

"Moira?" he asked.

"Don't scoff," Charles said.

"Not scoffing," said Erik, "She's a hard-worker, efficient, official, optimistic, and diplomatic. You two could work very well together."

"Thanks," said Charles.

He leaned up against the railing. Erik wondered what was going on in his head at the moment: it couldn't be anything simple. There was too much strain in his eyes, too much struggle. Whatever he was thinking about wasn't particularly pleasant.

Erik rubbed his chin just as he heard rapid footsteps. He turned and saw Lorna hurtling around the corner, her arms pumping and her hair flowing freely behind her. Alex rounded the corner a second later, just on her heels.

He raised his eyebrows as Erik drew level with her. She gave him a look and then pushed herself further. Lorna reached the front door by a hair and Alex stopped, panting. Lorna turned around, throwing her arms into the air.

"I told you!" she said.

"Fine, you're faster than me," panted Alex, "Do you want a gold star or something, because I'm all out."

Lorna rolled her eyes and pulled her hair in front of her, exposing the side of her neck. She ran her fingers through it once or twice, evidently tired. Erik caught the look that Alex was giving her then, a sort of glowy awe.

That would be enough of that.

"Had a good run?" Erik called.

Alex started and Lorna swiveled. She waved cheerfully and began to jog over. Alex looked after her and did the same. Erik watched him the entire time.

"I bet Alex five dollars that I could beat him in a race around the mansion," she said.

"I didn't know you had five dollars," Erik said.

"I don't," said Lorna, "I just knew I would win."

Alex snorted.

"It was a lot closer than that," he said.

"Was not," Lorna said.

Alex playfully punched her, and she did the same back. Erik saw Alex wince when she did it though: Lorna had a difficult time moderating her strength. He hoped that Alex took that idea to heart and remembered it. There was no doubt in his mind that Lorna would be able to take Alex in a fight.

"That's one way to train," said Charles.

"Hey, I'm working with the energy vest too," Alex said, "I can make some pretty good shots now."

"Maybe we can do target practice next," said Lorna, "I need some new shoes."

"Think you're tough enough for that?" Alex asked, smirking.

There was a strange pitch in his voice that Erik hated. He narrowed his eyes and glared at him. For the first time though, Alex didn't look away. He just swallowed and tilted his chin upwards. The brat was being defiant.

Perhaps he needed to use some of his new-found abilities to fix this.

"Hey!"

Thoroughly irritated, Erik turned around. Moira was hanging out the window, looking at them.

"The president's about to make his address!" she called.

Charles leaned away from the railing and began to walk. Erik fell into line next to Lorna, refusing to give Alex any recognition.

_You could give the poor boy a break you know._

Erik rolled his eyes.

_I will do nothing of the sort,_ he thought.

Charles opened the door to the manor and they walked inside.

_You seem to judge him rather harshly,_ Charles thought, _He hasn't really done anything wrong other than that first day, and I'll admit that was bad-_

_He's brash, arrogant, cocky-_

_Cocky and arrogant are the same thing,_ thought Charles.

_They're different,_ Erik argued, _He's a punk, and I don't want him ogling my daughter._

_He's hardly ogling her_, Charles thought, _More like hopelessly staring. I believe he might genuinely feel something for her, and is just unsure how to express that. You can't blame him for that._

_I can and do._

_Erik, I'll repeat,_ Charles thought, _You're being too harsh. If you just stopped and tried to get to know him, I think you'd like him. He's been through a lot, and he's almost defiant about wanting to change his life. In fact, he's rather like you._

Erik gritted his teeth.

_Which is exactly why I don't want him near my daughter. _

This time Charles did look over his shoulder. He turned around, opening the door to the living room.

_I meant it when I said that there was more to you than you thought,_ Charles thought, _Susanna knew it too._

Erik didn't respond. He didn't know if he could.


	22. Chapter 22

October 21, 1962

"Darwin?"

"Yeah Alex?" Darwin asked, idly flipping a page in his book.

Alex scratched the back, wondering just how to phrase his words. At his pause Darwin put down the book, sighing with irritation.

"Alex?" he repeated.

There was nothing to it.

"Have you ever liked a girl?" Alex said.

Darwin's eyes widened fractionally before he smiled. Alex had the feeling that he was laughing at him.

"You're asking me if I've ever liked a girl?" he asked.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," said Alex, "I mean, really liked one. And you want to do something special because-"

"Because it's starting to hit home that you might die tomorrow?" Darwin asked.

Alex winced.

"Yeah," he said.

"Shoulda hit you sooner," said Darwin.

Darwin lowered his eyes, staring at the cover of his book. Alex sat down next to him.

"When did you figure it out?" he asked.

"About the time that Mrs. Lensherr got her mind wiped," Darwin said, "This Shaw guy doesn't mess around."

Alex winced. He thought, not for the first time, of the kind woman who had trusted him when he said he was fine. She had been the amusing woman who, for some unfathomable reason, thought that hhe was charming. A woman who had sacrificed her life for her daughter. Light in the midst of darkness.

"Sometimes," Darwin continued, "I wonder if he was gonna kill Lorna, or if he was gonna do what he had Emma do to Mrs. Lensherr."

"I don't have a damn clue what goes on in that guy's mind," said Alex.

"No, but I think he was trying to say something that night," Darwin said, "I think he might've killed someone anyway that night, even if the Lensherrs weren't there."

"Whatcha mean?" Alex asked.

Darwin stared at the book for a few more minutes.

"I think he was making point to us that we could either join him, or be destroyed," he said, "And we're going to be fighting him tomorrow. Not what happened in the CIA, but real fighting."

It was silent as Alex digested this.

"My dad was a soldier," he said.

"Mine too," Darwin said, "He was at D-Day."

"Yeah, me too," Alex said.

"Infantry?"

"Fighter pilot," said Alex, "Made a career out of it."

"Mine quit after the war."

Alex leaned back.

"You know, I've been thinking about my dad a lot since this all started," he said, "Call sign was Corsair. Got a couple of medals. He always told me to be strong and responsible, take care of the people in my life."

"How'd you become a jailbird then?" Darwin laughed.

"Simple. Everyone in my life died," Alex said.

Darwin stopped laughing.

"Sorry," he said, "Just kind of put my foot in my mouth there."

Alex waved a hand.

"All I'm trying to say is that the president's speech really hammered all that home," Alex said, "All those lessons, all of those things he said, all those things I tried to forget. He probably thought I was gonna grow up like him and end up fighting the communists."

"He was right about that," said Darwin.

"In a really weird way," said Alex.

He wondered if he should continue, but he'd come to Darwin for a reason. Alex was in an unfamiliar situation, and he needed to talk to someone about how to proceed. While he knew Charles liked him, he was Erik's friend. Erik had made what he thought about Alex perfectly clear, and he was sure that he and Charles had talked about it.

"My dad, he volunteered," Alex said, "He proposed to my mom right before he shipped overseas. They got married really quickly."

"You thinking about eloping with a certain green-haired someone?" said Darwin.

Alex shot him a look.

"My point is that my dad knew not to waste time," he said, "My chances of death are pretty good tomorrow, and I'd like to think that I at least tried to get the girl I liked."

"Well, this can't be the first time that you've liked a girl," Darwin said.

It was time to talk frankly.

"First time I've liked a girl like Lorna," said Alex.

"Mmm," Darwin said, raising his eyebrows, "Think she likes you back?"

"She doesn't hate me anymore," he said, "That's not a bad start."

"Fair enough," Darwin said.

He still looked thoughtful though. Alex had a feeling that he knew what the next question was.

"You know her dad will probably kill you, right?" he said, "Yes or no, either way-"

"Here are my choices right now," Alex said, "Death by Shaw, or death by Erik."

"Once again, fair enough," Darwin said.

He looked around the room. Alex looked at the clock. The president had only finished his address an hour and a half ago, and they had gone through the plan for their departure and attack. He'd used that time to force himself to make a decision on what to do with Lorna.

Before he'd become part of the project, he'd known that he had no life to come back to. Now, he would like to think that, if he survived tomorrow, then he'd have something to pursue when he came back. There might be something going on in his life, and he wanted it to be more than just a potential job or friends.

He kind of wanted it to be her.

"What kind of romantic are we talking about here?" Darwin asked, "Like, be my valentine or...?"

The suggestive trail-off made Alex cringe.

"Not that," he said.

He was too scared about whether or not she actually liked him to suggest that. Of course she was highly attractive. Alex would have to be either blind or an idiot not to notice that. He wasn't blind, and he credited himself with some intelligence. Attractive or not though, he didn't want her for that reason.

Besides, he was pretty sure that Lorna hadn't had a boyfriend before. If she hadn't, then it was likely she was still a virgin and was uncomfortable with that idea. Alex figured that anything that made her uncomfortable got someone punched in the face.

There was also a very simple reason why he didn't want to venture that far. It wasn't one he was going to tell Darwin, but it was still there. He wasn't going to push his luck any further. It was already asking a lot to have her like him back.

"I don't think you have much to work with for whatever it is you want to do," he said.

"Or time," Alex said, "Like you said, I should've thought of this much sooner."

"Exactly," Darwin said, "But there are still a few things that you can do."

"Like what?" Alex said.

* * *

Erik reached out and touched Susanna's face. As always, she was pale and slightly cool. Anya and Hank had been taking good care of her. His little daughter had insisted that he go out to train with Lorna while she looked after her. His children never ceased to surprise him.

"We're going to find Shaw tomorrow," he said, "Charles is right. He's going to be there."

There wasn't an answer, there never was, but he had to talk to her sometime.

"We're going to have to leave Anya behind," Erik said, "I can't say that she should be left all alone here, she's still scared, but we don't have any other option. She's becoming so responsible Susanna. She just knows what she's doing, and what tasks need to be done."

He shook his head. Anya was six. She shouldn't have to take care of a mother who wouldn't wake up.

"Lorna's strong," he said, "I'm still scared for her, but not as much as I used to be. She's strong Susanna. Fast, clever. You were right. That night wasn't who she was. Shaw won't be able to touch her tomorrow. She'll be too fast."

His fingers traced down her cheek.

"And if she isn't, then I'll protect her," he said, "Tomorrow, Shaw is mine."

Erik wondered how Susanna would react to that statement.

"Susanna, I still remember everything we argued about," Erik said, "All those things you wanted me to remember when I faced him. All those things you wanted me to do. And I've tried Susanna. There were men that I could have killed back at the Defense Minister's house. I didn't."

His fingers stopped their movement, and he just cupped her face.

"And I'm sure that, right now, they're going home and eating dinner with their families," Erik said, "They're wondering if there is really going to be a nuclear war. They're wondering what the next few years will hold."

He shook his head.

"That thought doesn't comfort me Susanna," he said, "It doesn't make me feel anything at all. I don't feel better for knowing it, for saving lives, anything. Even when I think about it...it doesn't feel any different then if I'd killed them."

It was difficult to admit, but it was true. He'd given it a lot of thought over the past few days as he struggled to decide what to do next.

"But if you were there when I came back, if you heard what I did, you would care," Erik said, "You would tell me that I was doing the right thing, and I would believe it. I would be happy that you were happy, and I would feel like I had done something good for you."

He sucked in a breath.

"Perhaps that's just how I feel now that you're gone," he said, "I want you to wake up Susanna. I need you to wake up to because without you, I'm-"

Erik stopped talking. He couldn't continue in this way.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm so sorry my love."

His fingers began to go limp. Erik let go of her face and let his hand touch hers. There was an IV needle in it, and he absently traced its outline.

"Susanna, I know you think that I'm a good person," he said, "I know that you always believed that I would do the right thing when it came down to it. That I would do it even without you prompting me."

Inside his chest, his heart constricted.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," he said, "Because whenever I think of Shaw, what he did to you, what he took from me, what he could still take from me, I want to kill him. If you were able to hear me, I might be able to explain why I feel this way. But now that I can't..."

He clenched her fingers.

"Susanna, this might have broken us if you were awake," he said, "I don't want that though. Never, not even if it's not a choice anymore. But I can't let this happen. I can't risk Shaw hurting us anymore. I'm sorry Susanna, but I'm going to have to kill him tomorrow."

Erik raised her hand to his lips.

"I told you that I could live with you hating me as long as you were safe," he said, "I'm not sure that I would be able to. I'd resolve to do it for a week, and then I'd run after you. That's how far you've gotten into my soul."

He smiled sadly.

"At least I'm keeping my promise," he said, "You wanted to make sure that you didn't wake up next to a stranger. Well, you won't."

Despite himself, he could feel the tears in his eyes. He hated his weakness, but there was no way out of it. Erik leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Because I think we both know that you won't wake up at all," he said, "And I'm sorry for that too."


	23. Chapter 23

October 21, 1962

"Hey, Lorna?" Alex asked.

Lorna finished brushing her teeth and stared at Alex. She was only wearing a tank top and sweat pants, and although she had just brushed her hair, she knew she wasn't looking her best. There was toothpaste dripping from her lips and she knew she looked ridiculous.

This was nothing, of course, compared to how ridiculous Alex was at the moment. She spit out the toothpaste.

"What's wrong with you?" she hissed, "This is the girl's bathroom!"

Alex rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know," he said.

"Get out!"

"Woah, look," Alex said, "I was...I was looking for you, and I couldn't find you-"

"Because I'm getting ready for tomorrow," Lorna said, "I wanna catch some sleep before I take on the psychopath."

"Yeah, of course," Alex said, "That makes sense. Lots of sense."

He continued to stare at her.

"Alex," Lorna said, "Go."

"I know," he said, "But I have something to show you."

"At this hour?" Lorna asked.

"It's not that late," said Alex.

"It is for my sister," she said, "Anya needs to go to sleep soon, and she can't sleep by herself. I've already left her alone for five minutes, and she's been getting better, but it's still not great."

"This won't take that long," Alex said.

"Alex, can this wait?" Lorna asked.

He shrugged, looking increasingly nervous.

"Considering that we might all die tomorrow, then no," he said.

Lorna hesitated. She knew that Anya was waiting for her, but Alex had been desperate enough to go into the girl's bathroom to look for her. He was so earnest that she could feel butterflies in her stomach, and Lorna hated it. She hated the way that Alex made her feel, hated the uncertainty that came with it. She just wanted him to go away and let her get on with things. There was a sister to tuck in and a madman to take down the next day.

Still, another part of her was sure that Anya would be fine for another ten minutes.

"Fine," she said, "But make it quick."

Alex grinned and grabbed her wrist. He dragged her down the hallway and Lorna made a noise in the back of her throat. Part of her still wanted to tell him to piss off, but she had agreed. She had told him, willingly told him, that she would go with him. Whether or not she would regret this in a few minutes was left to be seen.

He opened up one of the terrace doors. Lorna couldn't remember where it led until she saw the balcony outside it. Right. She hadn't explored around the house much, there had been too much training and thinking, but it was there.

Alex stopped finally, closing the doors behind him. She could see a red flush creeping up his neck.

"Were you just showing me the balcony?" Lorna asked.

"No," Alex said.

She frowned. She'd expected some of his witty repartee, but he just kept looking at her with a nervous expression.

"Alex?" she asked.

Alex took a shuddering breath and then put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm good," he said, "Just a little out of it. But I wanted to show you something, after I said something."

"Which is?" Lorna asked.

"Thank you," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. While she'd had some great conversations with Alex that day, she hadn't done anything that she thought was worth a private thank-you.

"I don't get it," she said.

"I'll explain in a minute," Alex said, "But I think you should look first."

He stepped forward and pointed upwards. Lorna followed his finger and saw that he was pointing to the night sky.

"Am I missing something?" she asked.

"Yeah," Alex said, "Look at exactly where I'm pointing."

She squinted. The stars were very visible against the inky black sky, and she was about to ask him just what it was, but then she stopped. Alex was pointing to the brightest star in the night sky, the star that represented the magnetic north. He was pointing to Polaris.

Lorna turned to him and saw that he was holding a rose. Where had he been hiding that? Other thoughts crashed into her head: she was being given a rose. Someone was giving her a flower, and it was Alex. She was sure that that was special.

He'd carefully shorn off the thorns, and his expressions seemed nervous. He held out the rose further, and she took it. It was all she could do.

"Got it from the Professor's garden," he said, "I didn't have time for anything else."

Alex cleared his throat.

"I wanted to tell you that you, um, I have never met anyone like you," he said, "I shared things with you I'd never told anyone. I've never felt like this before. I mean, a month ago I was this jailbird with no future. But now, I'm seeing things different, and, well, I think that it's kind of odd that you picked a star that used to guide sailors. Because I feel that you've been guiding me."

Alex cleared his throat again and Lorna felt tears gather in her eyes. She didn't know why: she didn't cry. This was making her cry though.

"And..." he said.

He held out the rose.

"I was wondering if, after all this was over, and assuming that we're both alive, if you would, you know, go out with me," Alex said, "To dinner or something. I just um..."

Alex gave her a half-smile.

"I had to try before we left," he said.

Lorna felt her breath catch. Her vision was blurry, but she reached out and took the rose. No one had ever given her flowers before. No one had thought of her like Alex had and, as she turned the rose over in her hands, there was only one thing she could say.

"I would like that," she said, "Very much."

Alex's half-smile turned into a real one. He took another step forward and reached out, but his hand hovered hesitantly over her arm.

"Lorna?" he asked.

"Yes?"

He gave her another nervous look, but there was a lot of hope in it as well.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

She stared, feeling her heart rise into her throat. Lorna felt the urge to run. She'd ruminated once that her feelings towards Alex weren't simple, and this was a perfect example of that. No, this wasn't simple. Not with half of her wanting to push his face towards her and the other half wanting to beat a hasty retreat.

Lorna fiddled with the rose for a moment, and Alex's grin began to fade.

"Too much, right?" he asked.

"No, it's, it's just I've never been kissed before," Lorna said.

Alex reached for her face, once more hesitating before he touched her cheek. She nodded, and his calloused fingers touched her skin.

"Didn't want to push you," he said, "I know that you pack a scary punch."

Lorna laughed a little. The feel of his fingers on her skin was so foreign, but it felt so good.

"Lorna, if you'd let me," he said, "I would be really, really privileged to be your first kiss."

She swallowed and held the rose closer.

"Trust me?" Alex asked.

"Yes," said Lorna.

"Then close your eyes," said Alex.

Lorna did so, feeling her breathing quicken. His other hand came to her face, so that her face was touching his. Seconds later his lips touched hers. They were surprisingly warm and soft. The warmth seemed to spread through her, curling around her heart.

Acting of their own accord, her hands rested on the exposed skin of his chest. He gasped against her lips, but she wasn't ready for the kiss to end. Lorna leaned forward so that his lips never really left hers, and she heard him give a little moan. She felt like giving a little moan herself.

His hands moved to her hair as she twined her arms around his neck. Alex's fingers moved through her hair, making her shudder, but she could feel that same shudder pass through Alex. Her eyes were still closed, and she knew why. She wanted to concentrate on the kiss, and only the kiss, without distractions.

When her lungs burned, she gasped and took a deep breath. Lorna looked up at Alex, whose entire face was flushed now.

"You...I've never...I feel kind of like I'm breaking apart," Alex said, "And I really like it."

She smiled, her hands still around his neck.

"Me too," Lorna said.

"So," Alex said, all of his cocky swagger suddenly back, "Good first kiss?"

"I think I'm a natural," laughed Lorna.

"Really? Because I-"

She cut him off by kissing him on the cheek. He stilled and she hugged him. One of his hands rested hesitantly on her shoulder.

"Doesn't matter," Alex said, "This is perfect right now. Perfect."

* * *

The chessboard was littered with pieces, each one moving with its own goal. Charles had never been challenged by anyone so much in a game of chess. Raven had no taste for the game, and he'd known better than to ask his mother or stepfather.

Erik provided a worthy opponent, and he was actually winning that night, but there were other things on Charles's mind. They had gone over the plan for the next day a thousand times, but somehow it still seemed like he was missing something somewhere.

Perhaps it was only Erik's silence during the strategy meeting that had unnerved him. He was still silent, and Charles felt that the reason for this unnatural silence couldn't be good. He'd been up to see Susanna earlier that evening, which Charles hoped would have calmed him down. It didn't seem to have done so.

"Erik, is something the matter?" he asked.

His friend leaned over and moved a piece.

"Everything changes tomorrow," Erik said.

Charles sat up straighter. There was something about Erik's tone that he didn't like.

"Yes," Charles said, "The world will know that we exist."

"And what guarantee do we have that they won't turn on us?" Erik asked.

Charles winced. He should have expected this. Every time Erik sat for a long time with Susanna he came away much more protective of his daughters. It was reasonable, he'd already lost so much and was clinging to what he still had, but still.

"But once we've stopped Shaw-"

Erik gave a barking laugh.

"Charles, I'm not going to stop Shaw," he said, "I'm going to kill him."

In the silence that followed Charles closed his eyes briefly. He'd been afraid of this.

"The only question is if you have it in you to allow this," Erik said.

Charles could hear the thinly veiled threat. Erik didn't just want to kill Shaw. No, he felt that he needed to do it, probably to protect his family. That meant that he wasn't going to listen to reason. He still had to try though.

"You don't have to do this," Charles said, "We can be the better men-"

"We already are," said Erik.

"We can do the right thing," said Charles.

Erik snorted. His friend was starting to get angry now, and that was scaring him. Charles knew what Erik was like when he lost his temper. He didn't want to be mixed up in all of that, and they couldn't afford it the night before their big attack.

It might already be too late.

"My wife spent her entire life doing the right thing, encouraging the others to do the same," he said, "And, remind me, what happened to her?"

"Erik, listen to me very carefully," Charles said, "Killing Shaw will not bring her back."

His friend's eyes narrowed, the anger in his eyes enough to cut him.

"Thank you for reminding me Charles," Erik snapped.

He shoved his piece on the board forward, knocking over Charles's king. Without another word he got to his feet, storming out of the room.


	24. Chapter 24

October 21, 1962

Hank could feel his hands shaking. It was done. He'd finally finished it. Hank held the syringe gently in his hands. He was afraid that he was going to drop it and break it, but he couldn't imagine putting it down.

He turned it in his hand. The serum was a weak green, but he knew that it packed a powerful punch. One injection of this and he would never be afraid to go barefoot again. His parents wouldn't be afraid to talk to him. Childhood memories and fears would be a thing of the past.

It was all coming together. Hank couldn't help but smile. Tomorrow he would use his powers for the good of mankind, his brains making the suits and tools that the saviors of the world would be using. Tomorrow, he would finally look normal.

Hank could feel the trembling in his hands increase. He wanted to just jab it into his feet and see the ugly, freakish toes disappear. He'd made a promise to Raven though. He'd told her that they would do it together.

Steadying his hand, he put the syringe onto a plate. He'd have to go and take its twin from its place in the refrigerator. He had to keep his hands steady when he gave them to Raven. He wanted her to see his confidence in the serum and the process. They could leave all of their fears behind them.

There was a knock on the door. He sighed.

"Who is it?" he called.

"Just me."

Anya. He walked over and opened the door. She stood there in her night gown, twisting some of the surplus fabric from its long hem between her hands. He could tell that it was a hand-me-down from the way that it trailed on the floor.

Even though it was late he was glad to see her. Anya liked to talk to Hank and, even though she didn't know the difference between an atom and a proton, she wanted to learn. It was kind of fun teaching her. Maybe there was a future in it.

"How's my favorite lab assistant?" he asked.

"I can't find my daddy or sister," she blurted.

He stared at her. She continued to twist the edge of her nightgown.

"I thought, maybe Lorna's just out a little late, and she'll be in in a minute and then I can go to sleep," Anya said, "But she didn't, and then I thought that daddy might be in soon and I could leave the door open, but he wasn't."

She stopped talking and began glancing around nervously. He remembered Lorna saying that her sister was too scared to be left alone. Anya was very young, and she'd been through a lot. He figured that he'd be pretty scared after someone held a knife to his throat as well.

The big question was where her father and sister were. Erik was very protective of his daughters, and they both knew that Anya was afraid to be alone for very long. Erik might have gotten caught up in planning the attack tomorrow, but Lorna was usually on top of this. Where was she?

"I'm sure they're around," Hank said.

Anya nodded, still looking furtive. He decided then that it didn't matter where Lorna or Erik were.

"You should come in until they show up though," he said.

Anya all but shot into the lab. She scurried to the other side of the room and Hank blinked at her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"No, it's okay," he said, unsure what she was apologizing for.

He closed the door. When he turned around, Anya was sitting on one of the footstools. She had her hands in her lap, but she was looking curiously at the lab table. He saw that her eyes were resting on the syringe.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just a little project," he said.

"What kind?" Anya asked.

Hank walked towards he table and gestured to the syringe.

"It's the best thing I've made yet," he said.

Anya's eyes widened and she grinned. Hank grinned back at her. She was excited, and he wanted to keep it going. He'd never had such an audience for what he made.

"What is it? What is it?" asked Anya.

"It's a serum of my own devising," Hank said.

"What does devising mean?" Anya asked.

"I made it," said Hank.

Anya crossed her arms and frowned.

"You already told me that," she said.

"I was being dramatic," Hank said.

"Oh."

She leaned forward, peering at the syringe.

"What does it do?" Anya asked.

"It's going to disguise my mutation," Hank said.

She frowned again.

"What?" she asked.

Perhaps he'd told her too much too fast. She was so eager that he sometimes forgot that she was very young. Anya was very clever, but she was still six.

"It's going to hide my mutation," Hank explained, "When I inject it into my feet it's going to make them look normal. It's not going to change my abilities, but when people look at me they're not going to know I'm a mutant."

She cocked her head at him.

"No more hand-feet," she said.

"No more hand-feet," he agreed.

Anya's frown deepened.

"But...why would you want to do that?" she asked.

"Well, why wouldn't I?" Hank asked.

Anya still looked confused.

"Why would you though?" she asked.

"I just...it's just..." Hank said.

He tried to explain, but the words just fell flat. How could he explain to Anya what had happened to him when he was younger? How could he describe the prejudice that they were all going to face one day, that Anya would face if she too developed powers?

Hank couldn't tell her. She was too innocent and sweet to tell that. Lorna would be able to handle it, but she was like her father. Anya was too kind, too like her mother. Maybe that was the real problem, the reason why she didn't understand.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, "You're normal."

Anya looked at him for a second, and he saw something unfamiliar in her eyes. Then she shrugged and turned away. Her attention refocused on the syringe.

"It's pretty," she said, "Can I touch it?"

"Um, no," Hank said, "That would be dangerous. I don't want you to break it. I haven't made much of the serum."

Anya peered at it, putting her fingers on the edge of the table.

"It's an icky green," she said, "It's not a pretty red or anything."

"Yes," Hank said, "The chemical properties weren't conducive to too much color-"

Before he could finish, Anya snatched up the syringe. She slid off the stool, almost tripping on the hem of her nightgown.

"Anya!" he called.

She hurried towards the door, but Hank stepped in front of it. Anya changed direction and climbed behind one of the tables. Hank stood in front of it, feeling just how ludicrous this situation was. It was hardly a good thought, considering that she might actually break it.

"Anya, I didn't know that you wanted to pick it up that bad," Hank said, "I would have let you hold it if I'd known. I would have just supervised-"

"No!" Anya yelled.

Hank rubbed his temples. A headache was coming on. He was sure of it. Perhaps he'd been a little hasty in judging her as a calm, sweet little thing. Again, she was six, and six-year-olds did stupid things from time to time.

He looked underneath the table. In response she burrowed further behind the table to the point where he couldn't even see her eyes.

"Anya, give me back the syringe," he said.

"No!"

The throbbing in his temple was getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Give me back the syringe!"

"No!"

He peered further. Anya lifted her head so she stared at him, and he saw anger looking back at him.

"No!" she repeated.

"Anya give me back the damn syringe!"

Hank winced at his use of profanity, but Anya gave him another baleful look and curled in on herself again. Hank got up. He'd had enough. He couldn't let her break the syringe, no matter how old or friendly she was. Enough was enough.

He yanked the table away. Some of the plates shattered when he did it, but it was nothing compared to the syringe. He reached out and grabbed her arm as she tried to flee. Hank picked up Anya and she began struggling. Her spare hand knocked the glasses off his face. They clattered to the ground and his vision blurred.

Still, he couldn't pause for very long. There was no telling what Anya would do with the syringe if he let her go. She held the hand with the syringe in it out from him, stretching her arm out as far as possible. Hank couldn't quite reach the syringe while he was holding her that way.

"Anya!" he said.

"No!" she yelled, "I hate you! I hate you!"

The pure passion in her voice made him pause.

"Anya?" he asked, feeling shaken.

Tears poured down her cheeks as she turned to him, her whole face wobbling. She continued to hold the syringe away from him, but her eyes were fixed on him.

"Why don't you want to be you?" Anya said, "I would die to be you! You and all the rest!"

Her tears became fiercer.

"I wanna be special!" she said, "I'm not. Not like you or Lorna or daddy. You're all so strong, you can make the bad men who hurt my mama stop! You can fight back!"

Hank could feel his grip weaken.

"Listen, Anya, you're a child," he said, "You...even if you were a mutant, and you might be, then you would be too young to-!"

"I can't do anything!" Lorna howled, "I'm not like mama either, not really! Everyone thinks I am, and I wanna be so much, I wanna be, but I'm not. She's so kind and gentle and I'm not. I'm not! I hate what I did! I can't do anything!"

Anya's grip on the syringe was weakening.

"But you can," she sobbed, "You can make a difference and I can't and you wanna throw it away!"

He felt something in his throat clog up. Hank coughed. His vision was getting blurry, but it wasn't because of his glasses.

"My...my abilities won't be affected by it," he said.

"But you don't want them!" Anya said, "You don't want what you can do, any of it. Not if you want to get rid of how it looks!"

She punched his chest with her spare hand repeatedly. It hurt him more than he wanted to admit, both mentally and physically. Anya was more like her sister and father than she thought: they all packed one helluva punch.

"It's you!" she said, "It's all you! Why do you want to get rid of it? Why do you want to get rid of you? I like you and you don't and..."

Anya's arm slumped down by her side. She was racked by sobs, shaking far too much to even keep the syringe aloft any more. Hank could easily reach the syringe if he wanted to. The only problem was that he didn't want it. Not anymore.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry."

Anya hit him in the chest again. He stumbled, mostly from shock.

"Don't be sorry to me," she cried, "Be sorry to you! You!"

Hank swallowed. He sat down with Anya in his lap. Gently he prised the syringe away from her hand. Hank looked at it once before tossing it away.

"I'm sorry to me then," he said, "And I'm sorry for disappointing you...and for disappointing myself."

Anya sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry about what I said," she said, "I don't really hate you."

"I know," Hank said, "And I'm sorry I shouted."

She sniffed again. Hank managed a smile.

"And, for the record," he said, "You are very much like your mother."

Anya smiled a little, still wiping her eyes. Hank smiled back. He knew what he had to do now, and it didn't include injecting that serum into his feet. There was only one question now. What was he going to tell Raven?


	25. Chapter 25

October 21, 1962

There was a knock on Raven's door. She straightened her bathrobe before opening it. Hank stood in the doorway, nervously holding a box with one of his hands. She smiled at him, noting how he blushed and looked away when he saw what she was wearing.

He was too cute.

"Maybe I should come back later," he said.

"No, it's alright," Raven said, "What do you want to talk about?"

He swallowed and gestured to the room. If he were any other boy Raven would probably know exactly what was happening, but this was Hank. She nodded and he came in, placing the small box on the table she'd had moved from the lounge. There were two chairs, not that she'd ever really needed both before. There had been nights when she'd had long conversations with Charles, scared of the world around her, but that had been a long time ago.

Raven sat down across from him, her hands folded in her lap. Hank stared at the box before opening it. She saw a syringe inside it filled with green serum.

"You finished it?" she asked.

She couldn't keep the excitement out of her tone. All week she'd been working with her mutation, hoping that Hank was almost done. She hadn't told anyone what was happening, her own little secret. She might have told Charles, but he was too busy with the rest of them. Besides, he wouldn't understand.

Raven also might have told Lorna. She'd never had a friend who might have understood before. However, she knew that Lorna had enough on her plate with what had happened to Susanna. It was the same reason why she'd never said more than "Hello" to Lorna's father. Anya was in denial, she was too young to fully understand everything, and much more naïve, so she was much easier to talk to. Lorna was more withdrawn, and rightly so she supposed, and she'd always been used to hiding her feelings. It wasn't an environment that was very conducive to discussion.

Her eyes began to drink in the sight of the syringe, but something drew her up short.

"Hank, where's yours?" she asked.

Hank looked down.

"I was going to bring both of them here," he said, "So that we could do it together."

"So where's yours?" Raven asked.

Hank continued to look down. He didn't look ashamed, just deeply thoughtful.

"Anya came into my lab, looking for Erik and Lorna," he said, "And she was hanging out with me for a while, so I told her about the serum."

"She's pretty inquisitive," Raven said, "And she's been hanging out with you for a while. Should I be jealous?"

Even though she was teasing, Hank didn't smile.

"She asked me why I didn't like myself," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Raven.

"What it sounds like I guess," Hank said, "You know Anya: she has no guile, no filter. She's too young to have learned it. She just..."

His eyes finally met hers.

"She asked me why I wanted to get rid of a part of myself," he said.

"Hank, we both know why," Raven said.

"Do we though?" asked Hank.

He gestured at his feet.

"It's because I'm strong and fast that I might be able to do something tomorrow," Hank said, "And because I'm smart, but if I didn't have my mutation then I wouldn't be able to fight for things that I believe in. Sure, I guess I could train and all, but this was a gift. A gift to help people."

Raven shifted, feeling uncomfortable. Hank was speaking so earnestly, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"You said that it would just change appearance," she said, "Not abilities."

"It should, yes," Hank said.

"Then I don't understand," said Raven, "Hank, you made this serum. It was your idea, and you developed it."

"I know," Hank said, "But Raven, what if I don't want to take the serum anymore?"

She stared at him.

"You're joking, right?" she asked.

"I'm not," Hank said, "For the first time...I'm wondering if I should want to change for people who think I'm a freak. I shouldn't want to be something other than what I am."

"Hank, are you serious?" Raven asked, "You spend ten minutes chatting with a child and you decide to ignore a promise you made to yourself? You ignore everything you know to be true?"

Hank gritted his teeth.

"I know that this might be hard to understand," he said, his voice almost a growl, "But for the first time, I'm starting to think that maybe there's nothing about me that I don't like. I think I like me now."

Raven pursed her lips. Her eyes flicked down to the green syringe. How could she make him see what he had once so easily understood?

"I like you too," Raven said, "But you know that the world won't accept you with feet like that."

"Maybe not," Hank said.

"Maybe?" asked Raven, "Hank, they won't. This is our only chance."

She took his hand. He looked down at it, as though seeing it for the first time.

"If other people can't see what's special about us, then I don't really see that as a big deal," he said.

"You'll see it when they bring out the torches and pitchforks," Raven said.

"Your brother doesn't see it that way," said Hank.

She sighed. Great. First a child, then her brother. Was there anyone that Hank didn't listen to more than her?

"He's overly optimistic," Raven said, "He doesn't understand Hank. You and I, we do. Just think about all those things people said. Think about the 'Manilla Gorilla.' That's what people are like Hank. That's what your feet are, that's what looking different is. It's ugly, and it's dangerous. We can finally be safe if we just take this."

She guided his hand over to the syringe. Raven picked it up, clasping it with Hank's hand between hers and the syringe.

"We can do this," she said, "Together."

Hank stared at her for a minute, his eyes flicking down to the syringe.

"Raven," he said, "I used to wonder why someone like you was interested in someone like me."

She made a face, but Hank shook his head. He pulled away from her hands and put the syringe onto the table. He bit his lip before taking her hands.

"I'm geeky and awkward," he said, "But you still seemed interested. You're nice, and pretty, and I thought we had a lot in common. I just kept wondering what it was you saw in me. But...maybe the only thing we shared was our own self-loathing."

Raven narrowed her eyes. She didn't hate herself. She just didn't want to look like a circus freak anymore. What was so wrong about that?

"I don't hate myself anymore Raven," he said.

"I don't hate myself," snapped Raven.

Hank let go of her hands.

"Maybe," he said, "But you don't love yourself either."

He got up.

"Raven, I wanted to tell you that I finished," he said, "I promised to develop a serum, and I did. I promised to give it to you, and I did. I just don't want it anymore. You can administer it to yourself, just put it in the biggest vein in your arm."

Sadness entered his eyes.

"And, about you and me, if there ever was..."

His voice became weaker and, despite herself, Raven felt her eyes tearing up.

"Hank," she said.

"Maybe we just didn't really know each other. I don't think we do now either," Hank said, "But the decision is still yours. I've made mine, and I think it's the right one for me. I hope you make the right one for you."

He bit his lip before leaving her room. Raven watched him go, her heart in her throat. Her eyes slowly drifted downwards. The syringe was still lying on the table. She picked it up and stared at it, watching the green liquid bead on the end of the needle.

* * *

"Charles?"

Charles looked up. He was sitting in front of a chess set. Moira figured that the other player had been Erik. Charles's king had been knocked down, and she doubted that there was anyone else in the house who was good enough at chess to beat him.

His eyes were a little bloodshot, and he looked tired.

"You should get some rest," she said, "We've got a pretty busy day ahead of us."

Charles nodded, but he didn't move. Moira frowned and touched his shoulder. His eyes trailed up her arm slowly before resting on her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"Mmmhm," Moira said, "I don't think that that's true."

He sighed and looked back at the board. Moira didn't move though. She wasn't about to back down, not when one of her fellow agents, even an honorary one, could be going through an emotional crisis on the night before a major operation. Especially if that agent was Charles.

"Charles," she repeated.

"I'm afraid that my friend is going to become a murderer tomorrow," he said.

She blinked. Charles turned to her, his expression sad and exhausted.

"I think that Erik's going to try and kill Shaw," he said.

"That's not exactly a surprise," said Moira.

Charles sighed.

"I was hoping he would, I don't know, see that it wasn't the right thing to do," he said.

Moira shook her head.

"Right, wrong, Shaw needs to be stopped somehow Charles," she said.

The words were half-hearted. She knew it was something that McCone would say, or something he would want her to say. Charles gave her a look and she saw understanding there, as though he somehow knew what was going on in her head.

He probably did.

"But murder?" asked Charles.

"I'm sure he's killed people before."

"Not like this," Charles said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Not like this. He blames Shaw for everything that's wrong in his life. Killing him won't make things any better though. It will only push him further away from the man he was trying to be. He has the seeds of greatness in him, everyone here does. But...he doesn't think it matters."

He stared back down at the chess pieces. Moira could feel his worry rolling off him in waves.

"If he kills Shaw tomorrow, then I think he'll start down a path that he can't return from," Charles said.

He turned to her.

"I don't know how I can make him understand," he said.

"I think that there was only one person who could make him understand," Moira said, "And I don't think she's going to wake up in time."

Charles nodded slowly.

"Maybe," he said.

Moira folded her hands. She wondered if Charles wanted to talk more, but there was something in that word that told her he needed to be left alone. It was what she would want in his place, just some time to speak to her own thoughts.

"Try to get some sleep tonight Charles," she said.

"Hmm," Charles said.

She hesitated, but they could very well all die tomorrow. It was something that had flitted across her head several times and she'd just shaken her head at it, but she'd been raised by her aunt to be strong. After Charles's botched first attempt, she had the feeling that the next move was up to her.

Moira knelt next to him and kissed his cheek. Charles stared at her, surprised.

"I'm serious," she said, "Erik isn't the only one with people who care about him."

He looked at her for another moment. One of his hands reached out and gently touched her cheek. She breathed in before exhaling softly.

"Goodnight," she said.

She pulled away and left the room, feeling his eyes on her the entire way.


	26. Chapter 26

October 22, 1962

Lorna looked in the mirror. She tugged on the collar of her new uniform experimentally. It was a little tight, but she knew that moving it down would decrease the amount of protection it offered. So it stayed zipped up.

Raven had opted to unzip hers to accommodate for how stifling it was. Lorna had advised against it, but Raven had just shrugged. She hadn't been very talkative that morning really. She'd agreed to plait Lorna's hair so that it wouldn't get in the way, and tied her own blonde hair into a ponytail.

It was odd how little changes could change everything. She didn't look sixteen in the mirror in front of her. Anya had told her that she looked awesome, like a superhero from one of the comics she read about the Invaders. Lorna just smiled at her. It was going to be hard saying goodbye to her. She was nervous enough about leaving her little sister alone.

Lorna didn't think she looked special though. She looked taller, harsher somehow. Her mother's green eyes stared back at her, reflected into the face of a uniformed, hardened soldier. Lorna looked away. She could almost hear her mother's sigh of disappointment.

"I know what I have to do mom," she murmured to herself, "I told you that after Shaw... I knew then like I know now. I just wish...dad...he won't understand if I don't-"

She folded her arms, cutting herself off. Her mother's voice was in her head again, gently chiming that she didn't need to do this if she didn't want to. Her mother, who had always believed that there was a better choice somewhere, even if that choice had been having her mind wiped in place of her daughter.

There was no way to comfortably deal with these thoughts. Lorna walked into the hall and saw Raven leaning against the wall. She was glaring at her fingers, turning them back and forth angrily. The anger faded when she saw Lorna approaching, but it was still there.

Something really had been off with Raven that morning. Lorna knew she wasn't good with social situations, but she figured that she should say something. They were on the eve of an important fight, so anything bothering her teammate was bound to be important.

Inwardly she scoffed at herself. She wasn't thinking like that anymore, not really. Raven was a friend, and she had gone to her for advice in the past, however indirectly it had been. Surely she could at least listen?

"Is something wrong?" Lorna asked.

Raven gave a short shake of her head. Lorna waited a moment more.

"I can tell something's up," she said.

There was still no answer. God she was bad at this. Maybe she should do what her mother had always done, and waited for the person to talk about it in their own time. Then again, her mother had had a sweet, persuasive manner that had convinced people to talk to her. They usually came around.

Lorna didn't have that manner, and they were going to be fighting maniacs soon. This needed to be resolved.

"I'm not, you know, a genius or anything," Lorna said, "But if you want to talk-"

"Yeah, you and your sister," Raven snapped, "You two are good at that, aren't you?"

Lorna narrowed her eyes.

"Hey, leave Anya out of whatever shit you're dealing with right now," she said.

"She started it!" Raven snapped.

"If Anya 'started' anything," Lorna said, "then I would've been there. She can't go anywhere by herself, and I haven't seen her talk to you for a long time."

Raven gave her a vicious snarl. Lorna folded her arms across her chest.

"What did she say to you?" she asked.

"Were you there with Hank when she told him he didn't need to change?" Raven demanded, "And that we..."

Raven's voice became miserable. Lorna blinked. She thought back to every conversation she'd heard Anya share with Hank.

"I've heard her gush about how she thinks he has cool hand-feet," said Lorna, "She told me she thought you two were cute once. But I hardly think that that's-"

She paused.

"When did they have this talk?" she asked.

"Last night," Raven said.

"That can't be right," Lorna said, "Anya's bedtime is...oh."

She hadn't been there. She'd been kissing Alex on the balcony, convinced that her sister could wait for a few more minutes. Lorna burned with embarrassment and shame. Anya had been asleep when she'd gotten back, tucked up on the bed. She'd thought that Anya had just been so tired that she'd fallen asleep.

Apparently not.

"No, I think this was a private conversation," said Lorna, "I don't...what happened?"

Raven glared down at her hands, tears pricking her eyes.

"Hank was working on a serum to change our appearances," she said, "Not abilities, but it would mean that I didn't have to look like some sort of surrealist painting. It was going great, but last night he told me that he didn't want to take it with me."

She turned her glare towards Lorna.

"Apparently some brat told him that it would be cowardly," Raven said.

"Don't call my sister a brat," snapped Lorna.

She shook her head, feeling the end of her plait hit her neck.

"It's not her fault that you have self-esteem issues," she said.

"What?" Raven demanded.

Lorna let her hands fall from where they stood crossed against her chest to her hips.

"My sister is like my mom," Lorna said, "She sees the best in people. Compound that with her being six. She's the very definition of an innocent. She could see the beauty in Hank's hand-feet, saw them as something useful and special. If you asked her what she thought about your skin or hair she'd tell you that they were bright and beautiful-"

"Like a child's crayon drawing," said Raven.

"I wasn't finished!" Lorna snapped.

Raven drew back. Lorna wondered how many argument that Raven had gotten into where her witty comebacks hadn't automatically silenced her opponent. When children had bullied her or teachers demanded to know what was wrong with her, Lorna had told them honestly and angrily. It hadn't mattered what they had said back.

"She sees beautiful things in other people," Lorna said, "Things that they don't see themselves, things that are worth saving. It's not Anya's fault that you don't think you're beautiful!"

Raven got to her feet. Her skin rippled and Lorna was left staring at her blue skin, red hair, yellow eyes.

"What about this is beautiful?" Raven snapped, "Even a little bit?"

Lorna took a step back. Raven's face was livid and her eyes were misting over.

"So you didn't take the serum?" Lorna ventured.

"No!" Raven snapped, "Of course I didn't! I couldn't do it, not alone!"

She reached up and grabbed fistfuls of her red hair.

"This doesn't even feel like hair!" she snapped, "It's all slick and it sticks to my neck! It's not normal Lorna! None of this is normal!"

Lorna finally found her voice.

"Why would you want to be normal?" she asked.

Raven blinked at her with her yellow eyes, her lower lip trembling.

"Think about where normal gets you," Lorna said, "Think about what you can do with average! Nothing. Nothing at all. People who are normal just walk around with their heads down, not paying attention to anyone or anything."

"You make it sound like normal's a bad thing," Raven said, "Your mother was normal."

She stared at Raven.

"My mother was not normal," she said, "My mother wasn't a mutant, but she had a caring, amazing manner that can't be called normal. She looked at the world, really looked at it. My mother was an artist and her mediums were forgiveness and understanding. You look me in the eye and tell me that's normal!"

Lorna panted, her fists clenched.

"Mutants can be normal too, if they want," she said, "If they keep their heads down. Normal, average people are useless. They don't do anything to help anyone, never do anything. They're just a statistic."

She flexed her hands. The metal in the room began to vibrate.

"I can do things with this," she said, "I can make things move, fight people, build things. I can do amazing things when I'm not normal."

Lorna let her hands fall to her side. The metal in the room stopped vibrating.

"You can do amazing things," she said, "And that's beautiful."

Raven bit her lip and looked to the ground.

"You don't have to take the serum," Lorna said.

Her friend hugged herself. Lorna ventured before tentatively wrapping her arms around her.

"It's okay you know," she said.

Raven sighed, her body shaking. Lorna stood there for a few minutes, wondering if there was anything else she could say. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the clock. They needed to get to the others if they didn't want to be left behind.

"Raven, we need to get going," Lorna said.

Raven nodded. Lorna pulled away. She half-expected Raven to turn into her blonde form again, but Raven kept her blue form.

"You're right," she said, "We should, uh, get going."

"Yeah," Lorna said.

A smile blossomed on Raven's face, tentative, but genuine.

"Let's go get Shaw," she said.

* * *

Anya stared out the window. Her father and sister, as well as Hank and everyone else, had already left. It had been ten minutes ago, and she'd watched them leave from the door. When she hadn't been able to see them, she'd climbed up to her mother's room and watched them from the window. They were going to go to some hanger somewhere.

She didn't want them to go. Anya had wanted to tell them that, but how could she? They were already dressed in blue and yellow, looking like superheroes or soldiers off to fight evil. How could she beg them to stay when they looked like that?

All Anya could do was watch them. Lorna had leaned down and given her a hug before she went.

"I'll be seeing you soon," she said, "So stay safe, and stay calm."

"Okay," Anya whispered.

"I love you," Lorna had told her.

"Love you too."

Her sister released her. Anya's father had walked up as well. He gave her a long look before kneeling and giving her a crushing hug. Anya's eyes widened. Her father didn't hug her often. He would pat her head or shoulder, grin at her, hold her hand, but he wouldn't hug her. The last time he hugged her her mother had fallen asleep.

She had to fight back tears.

"I love you very much," her father said.

"I..I love you too dad," Anya said.

Then she had watched them leave. She was still watching them leave. Anya could feel the jitters starting. She could feel a knife pressing up against her throat, and she had to tell herself that the red man wasn't there. He couldn't hurt her because he wasn't there. She was alone, and that was fine.

Her hands shook. She was alone, and nothing was going to happen to her. Anya should worry about them, not about her. They needed to have all of her worry. She had to stop being so selfish, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Anya looked over at her mother. She swallowed and began to weave her way through the IV cords. With trembling hands she climbed onto the bed and under the covers. Anya squeezed her eyes shut and carefully placed her mother's arm over her.

The jitters began to stop. If she just kept keeping her eyes closed, she could pretend that her mother was awake, that she was really with her. Tears squeezed through her eyes, but at least now she could focus all of her worry on her father and sister.

That made things a little better.

* * *

_**A/N: **There are five chapters left in this fic. I also wanted to tell you all that I'm going to be doing another story with these characters based on "X-men: Days of Future Past" because I'm a sucker for trilogies. _


	27. Chapter 27

October 22, 1962

Erik wanted to laugh. Here he was, flying hundreds of feet above the waves, dragging a submarine from its depths that contained the man he hated more than anything in the world. He laughed, even though he was unsure what he was laughing at. Charles was smiling with him, a chuckle on his lips as well, but somehow Erik knew that they weren't laughing at the same joke.

Lorna shouted something joyful in the back, and his grin widened. It was good to hear her life. She had looked so severe that morning that it had almost broken his heart. He'd just been struck by how little of the small girl he'd seen clutching her mother's pant leg, was left.

She was happy now, or at least something like happy. That was better, allowing him to keep laughing. His laughter was dying a little, but something still seemed funny. There was still something to laugh at, and he wished that he knew the joke.

It hit him then, what he was laughing at. Shaw. He was laughing at the man who had thought to take a child and mold him for his own purposes. He had tried to take the force that had bent a metal gate and control it.

He'd failed. Erik had power now, more power than he had ever had in his life. Shaw didn't know his strength, the talents he had forced on Erik that he had managed to give new life. He didn't know what he had managed to pass onto Lorna, the lessons without the pain, lessons that would be used to destroy Shaw.

His grin began to get bigger. It was time for revenge. It had gone on for too long, the feud between them, the pain. He'd watched his mother die as a child, and he hadn't had the control or the presence of mind to kill the man who had taken her from him. He had regretted it for years.

His life had been a bitter struggle with a single period of peace. He'd found it again, as well as the gift that Susanna had unknowingly given him. It had been good, even if it hadn't been perfect. He'd learned to accept good, to take it for what it was.

Then Shaw had taken that peace too. There was nothing that Shaw wouldn't take from him, nothing that he would leave alone. His wife's spark was gone, his daughters' innocence and brightness failing softly in the harsh pain of everything in front of them.

Well, it was time for them to take back what had been stolen from them. Susanna would weep to know what he was about to do, but he had the strength to do it. Her support had meant nothing in the end, nothing that couldn't be taken away. It was like Shaw had blown away even the faintest traces of her away in the world, and Erik hated him for that.

He would love Susanna until the end of the world. He would never be able to stop loving her: it was too much engraved into his soul. They were matched in that way, the love so much a part of their lives that it had been woven into the cloth of themselves.

Erik would just have to disappoint her now. There was nothing left to disappoint, but he knew what was going to happen, knew how it was. Wherever her soul and mind had fled, he knew that she would be unhappy there.

He had reconciled himself to that though. It was something that he could continue to live with, even if it hurt. Shaw needed to be killed before he hurt Lorna and Anya. And he would hurt them. Now that he had taken Susanna from him, Shaw would try to take what little family he had left.

It was the last thought that he was able to focus on before Riptide opened a hatch on the submarine. Erik looked at him, but tornados were already forming in his hands. The wind blew and the plane was thrown.

Erik fell backwards, still trying to keep his grip on the submarine.

* * *

Alex felt himself get jerked forwards. His heart flew out somewhere and the plane began swirling back and forth. Someone was screaming, several someones were screaming actually. They were going down, and he could feel the sensation of falling.

_"Alex, I want you to listen to me very carefully. After thirty seconds, you pull this tab. Pull it as hard as you can. First on Scott's, then on yours. Ten seconds after you pull Scott's, you pull yours. Do you understand me? Do you understand me?"_

His breath began to choke him. Not now, not now. Getting on the plane had been hard enough, and he'd seen both Charles and Lorna give him quick glances. He'd shrugged vaguely, trying to pretend that his gut wasn't rolling in pure fear at the thought of getting on a plane again.

Now it was crashing.

"_Take your brother's hand. Keep close to each other. You should land in around the same place. Take care of each other."_

They were still falling. He put his hands behind his head, bracing himself. Alex wanted to scream, but something was stopping him. It was like he was drowning in something that wasn't air, a heavy weight on his chest pressing all sound and feeling out of him. All he could feel was the fear and confusion.

Distantly he knew that he was choking. No, he couldn't be hyperventilating. Not here, with no one to help him, no one to notice. He fought it but he couldn't breathe, and black spots began to swirl in front of him. He was going to die. He was tired of all of this, all of the pain and memories, and they wouldn't leave him alone. Now, after fighting through the foster and juvenile detention system, he was going to die.

In a plane. Maybe he'd always been destined to die in a plane.

_"We love you both so much."_

Someone reached up and grabbed his arm. He looked to the side and saw Lorna clutching his wrist. Her green eyes beckoned him, worried. They had always been unlike anything that he had ever seen before. They brought him to reality, to the present.

Her mouth opened, words forming, but he couldn't hear what she was trying to say. Her lips were moving clearly though, and he knew what it was she wanted to tell him.

_I've got you._

The plane hit something hard. He could feel it roll to the side upon impact. Alex hit his head on something as they continued to roll, but he just focused on the feeling of Lorna's hand. He had to hold onto something as he was jerked about, and the harness didn't give him much comfort.

After some time, it all went quiet. Blood rushed to his head and he coughed. The world had turned itself upside down, or at least the plane had. He turned to the side. Lorna was upside down next to him, and she smiled tentatively. All around him he could hear shouts, and he saw everyone begin to pick themselves out of the wreckage.

It didn't look like anyone was dead. That was good.

"Everyone alright?" Charles asked.

There was a chorus of groans. Alex noted that Charles went straight to the cockpit. Maybe he was trying to get a signal? A second later he saw that he was helping Moira out of her seat. Figured. Raven began struggling out of her harness. Erik walked up to her, waving his hand as the buckles came undone.

He shrugged, but then realized that Lorna was still holding onto him. In front of her father. Although it was probably inappropriate to be thinking about this while there was a war going on outside, he still looked at Erik to make sure he didn't see.

He was looking away, but he wasn't sure if he'd seen. Then again, he wasn't killing him, so he guessed he hadn't. He'd given him the stink eye when the two of them had sat next to each other in the plane, but he supposed Erik had brushed that under the rug. He wouldn't have brushed this off if he'd see it though, so he couldn't have. But it was hard to tell with Erik at that angle.

"Alex?"

Alex looked at Lorna, wondering if she knew what he was thinking.

"Ready to get out?" she asked.

"Meaning?" he asked.

Lorna waved her free hand. The seatbelt unbuckled. Alex began to fall to the ground, but the metal buckles on his jumpsuit stopped him. Lorna grinned at him, her hand outstretched. She was still upside down, so it almost looked lopsided.

He grinned back and held out his other hand. She grasped it and the metal buckles of her harness came undone. She managed to make it to the ground, her fingers still twined with Alex's. She gave him a triumphant look, and he couldn't help but blush.

They both realized this couldn't last forever though.

"I read the teleporter's mind," Charles said, "Shaw is drawing all the power out of the engines. He's turning himself into some sort of nuclear bomb."

He let go of Lorna's hand. They went to the other side of the plane, where everyone else was gathering. Charles looked through a crack onto the beach. Alex could just make out Riptide, Angel, and Azazel as Moira talked about the radios and warning the fleet. All he could see was the other mutants. They were waiting for them.

Charles looked at Alex, Darwin, and Hank. Hank pushed up his glasses, looking determined.

"You know the plan," Charles said.

Alex nodded. He gave Lorna a quick smile before heading out of the plane. Charles was saying something to Erik, but it was tuned out. His heart was throbbing and his stomach felt sick, but he would be alright. He was the son of a war hero. He'd survived jail and two plane crashes. He could do this.

With a deep breath, Alex ran out onto the beach. He sent a quick blast towards Riptide. It hit him and knocked him to the side, but didn't take him down. The winds picked up, but Darwin's skin became rock. The wind beat against him uselessly, unable to push him away.

Alex was pushed almost back to the plane though. The sand hit his back and it clouded his vision. Hank was pushed away too, but Alex didn't bother thinking too much on that. He rolled over so that he could get a visual. Darwin had reached Riptide, who looked panicked. He hit him hard in the jaw, and the wind stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Erik begin to run towards the sub. Lorna was hot on his heels. Alex had never been very happy about this part of the plan, because it seemed like it was giving Shaw everything he wanted. He was obsessed with Erik's family, and he was about to get two of the three remaining members delivered to him on a platter.

Perhaps they knew what they were doing. Perhaps they were both going to die. Alex didn't know which, and he wished that he did. Lorna and her father looked so determined, and for some reason that scared him.

Azazel saw them and moved towards Erik. Alex got to his feet, stumbling in the sand. He shot a blast towards Azazel, just missing him as he disappeared in a black cloud. There was a sharp smell of sulphur, and something thin wrapped around his throat. It began to tighten and Alex scrabbled uselessly at it. He turned his head fractionally. Azazel was snarling at him, and Alex made a face back at him.

There was a roar, and suddenly Alex could breathe a little better. Azazel's tail was still around his throat, but Hank was trying to throttle him. He wanted to laugh. Geeky Hank was stepping in and saving his life.

The smell of sulfur filled his nostrils again. Suddenly, for the second time that day, he was falling.


	28. Chapter 28

October 22, 1962

Erik ripped out a chunk of the sub, tossing it to the side. It hit Riptide, but he really couldn't be bothered to see if it kept him down. He did know that Lorna was right behind him, and Shaw was in front of him. It was the only information he needed.

_Erik, make for the middle of the vessel,_ Charles thought, _That's the point my mind can't penetrate. We have to assume that that's where Shaw is. I'll make sure that the two of you can talk to each other. _

_I'll cover you dad,_ Lorna thought.

_Just stay close,_ Erik thought back.

They thundered down a hallway, the paintings and wallpapers all exquisitely designed. Sparks seemed to be coming from the ceiling, and he had to put his arm up to avoid some of them. The submarine had taken a beating in the fall, but not enough of one.

They came into what he assumed was a lounge area. The ceiling lights were down, and he couldn't see very well in the dark. There was a single, flickering light above him, but it didn't do much to brighten the room.

_How much further?_ he thought.

_I think that you're about halfway there- wait,_ Charles thought, _There's something in there with you. It's making it difficult for me to-_

A high-pitched ringing filled his ears. He dropped to his knees and Emma stepped out from behind one of the walls. She was smiling, her arms crossed over her chest. Erik could feel Charles pushing back in his mind, but it still hurt.

"You came alone?" Emma asked, scoffing, "Really? You thought it was going to be that easy?"

Erik flicked his eyes behind him. Where was Lorna? She wasn't behind him anymore. He was growing cold inside, and his hands dug into the ripped and matted shag carpet below his fingers. Charles continued shoving in his mind, and Emma sat down on a couch.

Hatred mixed with his fear for his daughter. Emma had destroyed his wife, and that piece of filth was inside his head, delaying him.

_Charles, get her out!_

_I'm trying!_

He thought he saw a shape move to his left. It was subtle and small, but it was there.

"Your friend is a lot stronger than me," Emma said, her voice harsh, "You might not think it, but I'm not arrogant. I know my own limitations. If he were here in person, this would be a pretty quick fight, and it wouldn't go so well for me."

She smiled. The shape was still moving, and Erik suddenly knew where his daughter was.

"But he's not, and he doesn't have time," said Emma, almost panting, "So-"

Lorna rose up behind Emma and pushed her to the ground. Emma shouted and Erik got to his feet. Emma glared at them and turned into diamond, her eyes hard. She pushed Lorna off of her, shoving Lorna into the opposite wall.

"Lorna!" Erik said.

He got to her side, helping her up. She pushed the two of them sideways as Emma lunged for them again. Lorna put her hands out and a thick bundle of wires came out of the wall. Emma smashed through them. They weren't stable enough.

"Dad, I can take care of her," Lorna said, "The Professor will stay with me: you know he can. I'll be fine."

Charles wouldn't have the concentration to continue to stay with both of them, not considering the task that lay before them. He wanted to tell Lorna that, but he suddenly realized that she already knew. Emma didn't though.

That was his daughter.

"I don't want to leave you," he said.

"You have to," Lorna said.

She clenched his arm.

"I'll catch up with you," she said.

Emma screamed and lunged forwards. Lorna slipped out of his grasp and waved her arm. A table with metal legs screeched across the floor and tripped Emma.

"Go, now!" Lorna yelled.

Erik gave her a last look, but the determination in her eyes pushed him forward. Lorna would be able to take care of herself: he'd made sure of it. She was a proud, strong young woman. No commander could ask for a better soldier, and no father could ask for a better daughter. The least he could do was trust her.

He nodded at her and hurried down the hallway, the sounds of battle in his ears.

* * *

Hank had no idea what had happened. One moment he'd been ready to punch Azazel into the ground to free Alex, but the next minute they were both falling through the air. His glasses flew away from his face and he thought, too late, that he should have secured them somehow. It would have been simple: a string or maybe a pair of goggles that he could wear-

"Beast!"

That stupid name. Alex had used it to tease him, but he knew that it meant that his teammate was in trouble. He could just make out Alex's blue and yellow, blurry form falling below them. He lashed out with his foot, taking hold of Alex's wrist.

He used his other hand to twist around Azazel's throat. Hank couldn't believe what he was doing.

"We go together," he hissed.

He thought he saw Azazel's head turn towards him, perhaps considering his words. Seconds later he felt something hard and metallic beneath him. The smell of the sea was stronger, and he could just make out several other shapes. He could also smell their unwashed bodies in their regulated uniforms. They were on one of the carriers, unfamiliar terrain. He really should have done something about his glasses.

He'd just figured out where the biggest objects were when he saw a red blur move towards him. There was a red flash and he felt heat. Alex was trying to fight him. There was a crash and the smell of something burning. Then Alex was tossed to the side.

Hank ran forward, tackling Azazel. There was a smell of sulphur and he felt himself hurtling through space again, without his glasses, and without Alex.

* * *

Lorna glared at Emma, breathing hard. It was unlike any fight she'd gotten into before, knowing that the opponent across her could beat her if she wasn't careful. She'd told her father that she was sure that she could handle things, but she wasn't as sure as she'd like to be.

Emma had gotten up and was walking in front of her, all but pacing. She seemed to be regarding her, glancing towards the hallway that Lorna's father had gone through.

"You're not getting through me," Lorna said.

"Hm," Emma said.

She smiled.

"You're predictable," she said, "A nice, loyal little creature. Your blindly devoted mother would be so proud."

Lorna flicked her wrists and the table with metal legs flew up again. Emma smashed it with her diamond fist and kicked at Lorna. Lorna ducked and rolled behind her. Emma began to head towards the door, but Lorna crunched the walls of the sub inwards.

It was enough to make Emma pause, and that was all she needed. She made a section of the wall come undone, ripping away from the rest so it could hit Emma in the face. Surprised, Emma fell to the floor. There was a sound like crunching crystals, and Lorna ran back in front of the doorway. Her back hurt from where she'd hit it earlier, but it would be alright.

"Her last thoughts were of you you know," Emma laughed, getting back in, "You, your sister, your father. I got to see some other stuff there too. Would you like to know?"

Lorna clenched her fists. A green film dropped in front of her eyes and she tried to concentrate. If she did things right then she could make bindings for Emma. It would be intricate work, and more metal then she'd worked with before, but she could do it.

Her concentration was broken when Emma hit her in the stomach. Lorna gasped, choking on the breath forced from her lungs. She felt herself flying back several feet, stopping at the next doorway. For a minute she looked at the ceiling, trying to get her breath back as well as her bearings.

"I saw every night she wept as a sniveling little teenager with a bastard in her belly," Emma said, walking towards her, "Working until her fingers bled for a daughter who didn't understand that she could be taken away any minute. The secret nights when she tormented herself about her husband and firstborn thinking she was weak."

Lorna scrambled to her feet. She couldn't listen, couldn't let Emma in. She stumbled, wheezing as she tried to take back the ground that Emma had gained. Emma stopped her as she stumbled again. She grabbed Lorna's braid and yanked her to the ground. Lorna tried to kick at her, but only managed to hurt her foot. Emma was made of diamond, and that didn't absorb kicks well.

"Humans are all like that, clingy, weepy little things," Emma said, "They don't deserve to live amongst us. Her contribution was a little better than most, she managed to be the packaging that carried a mutant for a while."

She hit Lorna across the face. Lorna hit the floor, splaying out her fingers on the metal flooring and trying to concentrate through her rage and humiliation.

"Then again, if you were her greatest contribution," Emma said, "Then I'd say that it was a wasted nine months."

* * *

Erik continued on, his breath in his ears. He could hear his daughter fighting in the back, and he hoped that the massive banging around meant that she was winning. He kept glancing at the different instruments, looking for the one that Charles wanted.

One in particular caught his eye. He watched as the needle moved up quickly.

_That's the nuclear reactor. Disable it._

Erik grasped the large switch next to it and yanked it down. Immediately he saw the power levels begin to drop. As soon as the switch was secure he flexed his fingers. The door next to him opened and he walked into another lounge area.

_Erik, you're there. You've reached the void._

Erik looked around.

"There's no one here Charles," he said, picking up speed as he circled the room, "Shaw's not here, he's left the sub!"

He snarled. He'd left his daughter fighting a crazed telepath in order to hunt a ghost. Shaw wasn't here, he wasn't going to be there. They had lost him.

_What? He's got to be there, he has to be there! There's no where else he can be! Keep looking!_

No. He couldn't keep looking. He had to go back and get Lorna, make sure she was safe. There was still time. He didn't have to leave her to fight Emma alone. Together they could take her down. They would beat Shaw's whereabouts from her if necessary, tear it from her lips if need be.

"Well I'm telling you he's not!" Erik yelled, heading back for the door, "There's no one here goddammit!"

A small noise made him stop. Slowly, as if in a dream, he looked behind him. Shaw was standing there, clad in some sort of strange helmet and giving him a benevolent smile, like an indulgent father looking at an errant child.

"Erik," he said, "What a pleasant surprise."

_Erik?_ Charles asked, _Erik!_

He didn't answer. He just slowly began walking towards Shaw.

"It's so good to see you again," Shaw said.

Erik continued to walk forward, all of his thoughts quieting into one simple one. The mirrors in the room cast an eerie shadow on the man in front of him, making his own vision seem sharper somehow. As the doors closed behind him as the thoughts finally finished coming together.

He was going to kill the man in front of him.


	29. Chapter 29

October 22, 1962

"May I ask you something?" Shaw asked, "Why are you on their side?"

Erik breathed in. He wondered at the fact that he could be so calm. In the past, he had been so angry that his body had shaken. Metal had fallen down around him. Hubcaps bent and crockery was ruined. Once or twice a car had rolled over, though he'd managed to cover it up.

Now, confronted by a man who had done nothing but destroy his life, the man who had taken both his mother and his wife away from him, all he could do was stare. His rage had cooled in his veins reminding him of how much he wanted to kill the man in front of him.

"Why fight for a doomed race that will hunt us down as soon as they realize their reign is coming to an end?" Shaw asked.

Shaw's words were barely making it past the surface. The old pain from his mother's death was still seeping through him. It was so deep inside of him that he never let it go. If it had been the only thing he'd felt, then the words might have done something other than brush over him.

The pain was compounded and made sharper by what happened to Susanna though. He just remembered her still form the night before, the way her face hadn't as much as twitched as he spoke to her. She was still alive, and he would never speak to her again.

It had created a shield around him, insulating him. He felt the anger begin to kindle inside him again. A doomed race? Humans. Obviously they were going to fail with the rise of mutants. Erik had once seen what happened when people hated what was different. He couldn't let that happen again. Not to Lorna, and not to Anya if she ended up being a mutant. He'd already told Charles how scared he was of some intolerant racist coming after his children.

His children. The children he'd had with Susanna. A human. His wife, who Shaw had killed. His mind whirled in circles. He could still taste the scream that he had screamed when he was a child and his mother was shot. His ears were still ringing with the proclamation that his wife would probably never wake up again.

He lashed out and punched Shaw. Erik had been prepared for cutting his hand on Shaw's helmet and breaking his nose. He hadn't prepared to have his hand reverberate. It felt as though he were a rubber saw that had been shaken. The wobbles went all the way up to his shoulder.

Erik stared at Shaw, too shocked to do anything. Was that part of his power?

"I'm sorry for what happened in the camps," Shaw said, "I truly am."

The words passed through the shield and cut into him. The cool, wordless rage he'd felt only moments earlier melted away into pure anger.

"And the CIA?" he spat, "Do you expect me to believe that you're sorry about what you did to my wife?"

"No," Shaw said, tapping Erik's forehead.

Erik felt something push him back. He hit the wall behind him, and pain shot up his spine. Glass shattered all around him.

_Erik, keep doing it! Whatever you're doing, it's starting to work!_

"I did everything I did to unlock your power," Shaw said, strolling towards him, "Of course, when the Invaders raided the camp, that put a wrench in things. I figured that you would come looking for me one day, and I could explain. Your wife was an unforeseen complication."

He put a hand underneath Erik's chin, and Erik was hurtled into another wall. More glass broke, sprinkling over his back. All of the coolness was disappearing. His wife was a complication? The most peaceful, happiest portion of his adult life was a complication?

_It's working! I'm starting to see him but I can't yet touch his mind!_

Erik began to get to his feet. He could shatter the mirrors. Of course he could, it appeared that he was already doing it without really trying. And then, with Charles's help, he would utterly destroy the man in front of him.

* * *

This was bullshit. Alex had shouted as much as the soldiers had pointed guns at him. He'd been protecting them from Azazel, and again from Angel. Why couldn't they see that? Why couldn't they get it through their thick skulls?

This wasn't what soldiers were supposed to be like. They were supposed to be smart and strong. They were supposed to look at their surroundings and really see what was going on. They were supposed to be like his father.

However, he knew perfectly well that swearing wasn't going to help. So he walked with his hands above his head, not for the first time in his life, towards some sort of holding cell. It was only when he saw Sean that he realized that this was going to have a different ending.

He grinned and put his hands over his ears just as Sean screamed. The soldiers put their hands over their ears and fell to the ground. Alex made a break for it, running for the bow of the ship. It was before him in no time. It turned out that all those races with Lorna had paid off.

He jumped off, and Sean grabbed his arm. There was another cry, and they soared higher. Alex breathed in, trying to calm himself for a minute. He hated flying now. He really, really hated flying, but he forced himself to look down. It would do no good to keep his eyes closed.

As soon as he did, it didn't seem frightening any more. It seemed much more fun, and he could help letting out a whoop or two. Sean grinned at him, and he had the feeling that he was going to say something, but a fireball landed on his cape and began burning a hole through it.

They started to lose altitude. Alex felt his feet skimming the surface of the ocean. Sean screamed, trying to keep them up for another few meters to the beach. They reached it, but they were still coming in too hard. They were going to crash.

_Not again_, Alex thought.

He hit the ground and tumbled. The sand was in his face and eyes, and he had to fight to regain his sense of orientation. As soon as he did, he ran over to Sean. He heard Darwin yelling something at them. Alex didn't look up. Part of Sean's arm had been burned badly. They needed to clean and bandage it.

Something moved beside him. He watched as Darwin jumped into the sky, wings sprouting from his back. Angel gave him a shocked look before he barreled into her, shoving her to the ground. Angel gave a short scream, muffled by the sand.

Darwin punched her once across the jaw and she fell still. Sean let out a whoop and Alex grinned.

"You didn't tell us you could do that!" Sean yelled.

"Just figured it out," Darwin said, cracking his neck.

Alex continued grinning, but as he looked around the expression faded slightly when he saw Azazel and Hank appear. The two of them were locked in combat, but Azazel quickly flipped Hank over. Azazel raised his tail, the point about to go into Hank's unprotected eyes.

Before Alex knew anything, he had already run over and tackled Azazel. There was a smell of sulphur and he felt himself get pushed into the sand. Azazel's hand was around his throat and Alex scrabbled at it, gasping for air.

"Azazel!"

Azazel turned. Shaw was standing there, and Alex drew up short. Lorna and her father were supposed to be fighting Shaw. What the hell?

"It's over," Shaw said.

Alex pulled away tossed Azazel off him. Azazel rolled into the sand and Hank smashed his fist into his face. Alex saw blood fly up and Azazel slumped, unconscious. Alex hadn't thought that the nerd had it in him.

Hank looked up. Alex turned his full attention towards Shaw, wondering what was going to happen. Then Shaw rippled, turning into Raven. Hank blinked, uncertain. Right, he didn't have his glasses. He probably had no idea what had just happened.

"It's Raven," Alex said.

A small, uncertain smile spread over Hank's face. Darwin went over to help him and, at first, Alex smiled again. But Lorna and her father still weren't out there. His eyes drifted towards the sub. What was going on in there?

* * *

Emma picked Lorna up and tossed her even further. The room she was in was filled with buttons and knobs. She rolled over, trying to move while cataloging her injuries. Lorna knew that she had bruises all over her. She knew that her foot was sprained, even though she was still on the floor and had yet to put any weight on it. Emma was really trying to draw this out. She supposed that it was the kind of thing that Emma enjoyed. It was probably why she'd teamed up with Shaw.

"What a pity," Emma said, "Mommy's little mistake.

Somewhere in the ensuing fight her French braid had come undone. Her green hair was coming down in front of her face, clouding her vision. She tried to feel the metal under her palm, but it seemed distant. It was probably how disoriented she was. She couldn't let Emma win though. Lorna began to tug off her gloves. Maybe if she could really touch it she could be a bit more focused.

A diamond fist flew towards her. Lorna ripped off her glove and rolled to the side. She planted her hand on the metal paneling. It was cool underneath her touch, cool and beautiful. Lorna remembered everything that Charles and her father had told her. She closed her eyes, even though she knew that Emma's fist was heading for her head.

The metal twisted up from the floor around Emma's ankles. It threw her back into the metal wall before her fist could hit Lorna's head. Lorna rolled onto her back and held both of her hands out. The metal twisted from the wall of the sub, peeling into bands and wrapping around her.

Emma was fighting the bands, but Lorna kept bringing more and more bands. She flicked her hand and ripped up the flooring, sending it towards her. Lorna kept sending more and more until Emma was cocooned into the side of the wall. The only thing exposed was her head.

Lorna panted and struggled to her feet. She tentatively tried to put weight on her foot but, like she'd thought, it was lightly sprained. She'd have to be careful with that. However, she was still able to stand tall, look Emma in the eye, and say:

"My mother didn't make mistakes."

Lorna crossed her arms and glared at her. She knew that she should run after her father, try to help him, but there was something that she needed to know.

"That night at the CIA compound," Lorna asked, "What did you do, and how do we fix it?"

Emma laughed.

"I'm really not in the mood to play twenty questions sweetheart."

Lorna raised her hand and clenched it into a fist. The metal began to tighten around Emma.

"Funny," Lorna said, "Neither am I."

She could see her twist back and forth. Lorna had to be careful: she didn't want to kill Emma, just make her uncomfortable enough to talk. She was beginning to worry that she didn't know where that threshold was though.

"Fine!" Emma snapped.

She glared at Lorna, but then a smirk crossed her lips.

"I went into your mother's mind," Emma said, "I saw all the memories that were in there, from birth until that very moment. I saw her emotions, hopes, dreams for the future. I saw them, and I erased them."

She laughed again.

"Your mother's mind is gone," said Emma, "Gone. I slashed it out-"

"You're lying!" Lorna screamed.

Emma just smiled and Lorna's heart sank.

"Believe what you want," she said.

Lorna raised her hand and a piece of metal wrapped itself around Emma's mouth. She gave her a filthy look.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, "Try to keep that damned mouth shut until I get back."

She looked down the hallway that her father had disappeared down. Her mind was buzzing, the pain becoming incredible. Her mother was gone, really gone. Never again would her mother tuck Anya into bed, never again would she hear her voice or see her smile.

But her father was waiting for her, fighting the man who had ordained this future for her mother. So Lorna swallowed her tears, forcing herself on.


	30. Chapter 30

October 22, 1962

"She had to be removed, of course," Shaw said, "And I needed to make a point with her death."

He walked over to Erik, one of his hands outstretched. Still disoriented Erik could only watch as Shaw touched his forehead again. He crashed into the opposite wall. His back felt like it was on fire now. Optimistically he was going to have cuts and scrapes for a long time yet.

"I was never going to harm your daughter. I just needed to show you that the only thing humans are good for are to act as shields for mutants," Shaw said, "And killing two generations of Lensherr mothers had a kind of symmetry in it, I think."

Erik glared at him, his breath coming in short pants now. Susanna's sacrifice, the pain his family had gone through, it had all been set up.

"And look what's happened as a result. You've come a long way from bending gates," Shaw said, "I'm so proud of you."

There was a pounding on the wall, almost like someone was trying to get in. Erik got to his knees and flailed at the air. Metal beams cut into the room. He reached out for any metal that he could get to, dragging it into the room. Sparks and debris fell, the walls began to bend in,but Erik kept slashing at the air with his hands. Everything Charles had said about balancing rage and serenity was long gone.

A metal barricade built up between him and Shaw. Shaw didn't look surprised or perturbed. He began walking towards Erik, pushing the metal towards him. Erik pushed his hands out and concentrated, digging his feet into the ground for any leverage against the oncoming force.

"And you're just starting to scratch the surface," Shaw said, "Think how much further we could go."

Erik slid across the floor. He was sweating, and he felt as though he'd run a mile. Shaw just kept walking towards him. This was easy for him, easy to fight Erik, to win, to take things from him that he loved.

"Together."

The side wall split open.

"Dad!"

Erik looked and saw Lorna come through, her face lined with cuts. She took one look at Shaw and pushed her hands out. Metal beams pushed towards him, and Shaw was pushed back into one of the mirrors. It shattered, but Shaw put his other hand out. Lorna ducked in time to avoid getting hit with it.

She weaved through he wreckage until she was standing at Erik's side, helping him push back the metal. Shaw furrowed his brow in concentration, and Erik thought he could see sweat beading at his temples. Even then, they were only hanging on by inches. Lorna's eyes were glowing green, but the metal was already buckling around them.

The metal began to curve inwards, separating the two of them. He reached for Lorna, but it was too late. The metal bent forwards, trapping the two of them at opposite corners. Lorna cried out as the metal began to crunch inwards. It was doing something to her, hurting her somehow.

"Lorna!" Erik yelled.

"I don't want to hurt you Erik. You or your daughter," Shaw said.

"You're doing a good job of not doing that," spat Erik.

"I want to help you," Shaw continued.

He walked up to Erik, but Erik kept looking at Lorna. She was breathing steadily, looking like she was trying to concentrate on not crying out.

"This is our time, our age. We are the future of the human race," Shaw said, "You and me son. Young Lorna here too. This world could be ours."

"Piss off," Lorna snarled.

"How violent the young can be," Shaw chuckled.

He looked at Erik.

"But you understand, don't you?" he asked.

Erik continued to look down, feeling the pain and anger building inside of him. There was shame there too, shame because he did understand. It was true, everything Shaw had said. Susanna's words about him being more than that were wrong: this was what he had always been. Everything else had only been what he had wanted to be for her and his daughters.

It was a difficult truth, but it was going to give him an opportunity. He reached out with his powers for a cord of metal laying on the other side of the room. He had to get that helmet off of Shaw's head.

"Everything you did made me stronger," he said.

Lorna was staring at him now, her eyes full of pain and surprise. She didn't understand, but she would soon.

"Made me the weapon I am today," said Erik, "That's the truth. I've known it all along."

The cord was almost there. Just a few more seconds.

"You are my creator."

The cord wrapped around the helmet and pulled it away. Shaw lunged for it, but Erik was faster.

"Now Charles!" he yelled.

Shaw froze in mid reach. Erik pushed at the metal band holding him back, and it fell away. Lorna did the same and she fell to the ground. Erik ran over to her and she smiled at him. It was a pale, thin smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Just hurt my sprained ankle. Might be broken now," she said, "But I'm fine dad. I really am."

He put his hand out to touch her shoulder. She gave him a much more cheerful smile, and he helped her into a seated position.

"You took care of Emma," he said.

It wasn't a question, but a simple, pride-filled statement. She nodded once and he smiled, but then he eyes slid to Shaw. He was still there, still frozen in place.

"I'll take care of this," Erik said.

He got up and walked in front of Shaw, examining the man in front of him. His childhood nightmare, his adult despair, had all been caused by this man. Now he was here, at his mercy, like he'd always known he would be one day.

Like he'd felt when he first saw Shaw, there was a moment when he couldn't speak, couldn't do anything. It was a bit more controlled though. Erik knew exactly what he had to do, and why he had to do it. There was a weight inside his uniform pocket, one that he hadn't told anyone about, not even his daughter.

He took out a small coin.

_Erik, where are you going with this?_

Yes, Charles. He had almost forgotten about Charles. He was still in his head. There was a simple solution to that though. He waved his hand and the cord brought the helmet to him. It fell into his hands, its weight reassuring.

_Erik! What are you doing?_

"I'm sorry Charles," he said, "But I don't trust you."

_If you do this, there will be no going back!_

Erik ignored Charles. Why should he listen to him? There was nothing left for Charles to tell him, nothing left that he wanted to hear of his friend's wishy-washy ways. He'd had to listen to them for far too long.

He raised the helmet. He wouldn't have to listen to them for much longer.

_Erik, please, she's watching!_

He let the helmet slip over his head, but he had already heard Charles's words. He looked over and saw Lorna. She was still seated, her breathing heavy. There were even more cuts and scrapes on her face now. Part of her sleeve had a rip in it, and her long green hair was covering her shoulders.

But her green eyes, her green eyes were wide open and watching him with a terrified curiosity. Some part of him became very frightened. Charles had been right. He had an audience for this murder, and it was going to be his firstborn.

Lorna understood though. It was why she had come to him nearly a month ago, telling him that she would stand by him, even if it meant having to separate from her mother. She trusted him to do the right thing, and that if she followed, she would be doing the right thing too.

A voice whispered in his head, one that spoke gently.

_Are you doing the right thing?_

He looked back at Shaw. The man was still frozen, still powerless. It appeared that, between having Shaw kill Erik and Lorna and having Erik kill Shaw, Charles had chosen to have him kill Shaw. He supposed that he wanted to experience the lesser of two evils.

His friend couldn't control Lorna to stop him: not with that broken ankle. They both knew that his powers were greater than Lorna's, so using her powers was out as well. If Lorna tried to argue with him in Charles's voice, he'd just ignore it.

It did allow him to have a good look at Shaw. This was the face that had calmly shot his mother, had probably felt triumphant when Susanna was gone. The man was evil in its purest form, and he needed to suffer for what he did.

Would his mother or Susanna want him to avenge them though? He already knew the answer. His mother had been strong and kind. She would have liked Susanna. And his wife, no, she wouldn't have condoned violence for her.

He had made the decision to avenge them by himself, prompted by neither of the wronged parties. Lorna knew this. Now, at the age of sixteen, she was going to watch him murder a man. Brutally beating a man had been one thing, but killing him as he wanted to kill Shaw, that was different. She would see it all.

Susanna had once asked him to think of the example that he was going to set for his children. Lorna would know that this was something that she should do, a way of life that she should embrace. Anya would follow her, she looked up to him and her sister so much, and it all would have started with him. He was teaching his daughters that it was right to kill.

This was Shaw though. It couldn't be murder, not when it was Shaw, not when it would protect them. He rested his eyes on Lorna. She had vowed to fight, knowing this. So why the hell did she look so frightened now, as though she didn't know him. She shouldn't look that way.

* * *

Lorna wasn't sure what she was feeling. She had waited so long, fought so hard to get to this point. She'd known that it would end this way, with her and her father preparing to destroy Shaw. She had to protect herself and her family after all, and after what he'd done to her mother, after what she now knew to be irreversible, it was only right.

She shouldn't feel scared. She shouldn't feel as though they were on the edge of some great crevice that they were about to tumble into. Lorna shouldn't feel as though there was no going back from what her father was about to do, what she was about to condone.

Charles was in her head, begging her to convince her father not to do this. She bit her lip. It just made it more confusing, more difficult.

_Lorna, you have to know that this isn't right. Please, you have to stop your father!_

_Professor, please shut up for just five minutes!_ she thought.

His voice fell silent. Perhaps he knew she was conflicted. She had told herself earlier that there was no comfortable way to deal with these thoughts. So she'd locked them away and gotten ready to be a good soldier, a good daughter, but now she realized that she had put them off for too long now.

Lorna swallowed, trying to figure out what she wanted to do. She thought of her sister and her mother, the life she had lived in the small house that had creaky floorboards. Back then she'd been worried about her homework, about the friends she hadn't made, and about making sure that she didn't burn the house down when she cooked.

Somewhere along the line she had become concerned with nuclear war and revenge. She'd always been a fighter, and everything that she had been through in the past month hadn't changed her. Lorna had learned a new respect for people, for her gifts, but it hadn't changed who she was at her core.

This would. Idly watching a murder happen, no matter who it was getting killed, would change her. Letting her father do that would change their family forever. It would change how she saw him. No longer would he be her strong protector, but he would also be the man who murdered someone in cold blood for revenge.

Certainty filled her at last. She couldn't let him do that. He had to listen to her.

"Dad," Lorna whispered, "Please don't."

* * *

The words shocked Erik. He stared at her and grimaced.

"Charles, leave my daughter out of this," he said.

"Dad, this is me," Lorna begged, "Please don't. Please...this isn't what...isn't who we are as a family...who you are...it can't be..."

Her voice was choked and she sounded lost. He stared at her as a new thought trickled into his head. He'd made the decision to try to change his ways for his wife, to protect her and convince her to stay with him. Why couldn't he change for his daughters?

No. He didn't need this.

"Lorna," he said harshly, "Stop."

"This can't be who we are!" Lorna yelled.

She was crying now, her hands fisted tightly.

"We're dinner at seven so that everyone can be there," she said, her voice choked, "We're help with essays before school, bedtime stories and advice on fighting bullies...we're walks in the snow and...we're staying together even though it might be wrong because we can't give up on each other, and.."

She raised her tearstained, determined face to meet his.

"We're a million things dad, but we're not this!" she said, "This isn't our family, isn't us. We can't be...we..."

Lorna trailed off, looking at him desperately. Erik felt like he did when he was on the train over ten years ago, deciding whether or not to stay with his new family or to hunt Shaw. He'd been on the train, bought the ticket. The decision had been made. He shouldn't have had doubts.

Yet he had. He'd struggled and made the decision to jump off the train and trust fate to let his decision be the right one. Erik had done what Susanna had begged him to do. In return he'd been given ten years of joy with a wife and two daughters, ten years of peace. If he'd had to abandon it so soon afterwards, that was just the price that he had to pay.

Perhaps he should trust Susanna's judgment now as well.

"Lorna," he said.

His daughter kept looking at him, still waiting for something. Suddenly he realized that Lorna really didn't want him to kill Shaw. She didn't want this life, didn't want him to be this man. Lorna was looking at him to set the example.

Erik turned back to Shaw, pocketing the coin as he thought. Slowly, his hands trembling, he took the helmet off. He clasped it in his hands, staring at it.

_Erik?_ Charles asked.

He looked back at Shaw, at his expressionless, blank face. Was this man worth destroying his daughters' innocence completely, alienating them completely from the light that had been their mother? Was it worth destroying Lorna's perception, her faith in him? Perhaps it wouldn't destroy that light they both held, but could he risk it?

Was Shaw worth it?

"Goddamn it!" Erik yelled.

He pulled his arms back and smashed the helmet into Shaw's face. Blood and bits of bone from his nose flew out. Charles released his hold on Shaw's mind and Shaw crumbled to the floor. Erik stared at him, at the man who had caused him so much misery, unconscious, his nose broken, and lying on the floor.

"Dad?"

Erik looked over his shoulder. Lorna was on her feet, her whole body trembling as she limped forwards. She reached out to him hesitantly. Erik let the helmet fall from his hands. He reached out and hugged Lorna close to him, trying to ignore the turmoil rising in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said.

He had no idea what it was that he was apologizing for. Was it for forcing her to be his conscience, for bringing her into a blood feud, for not being there for the first six years of her life, for giving her his mutation and welcoming her as a soldier into a war? Or was it for everything?

She just held him tighter.

"It's okay dad," she said, "It's okay now."

Erik closed his eyes. No, it wasn't. It wasn't at all.


	31. Chapter 31

October 24, 1962

"So who exactly is it that has custody of Shaw and the rest again?" Charles said.

"They're called SHIELD," said Moira.

She put her pen down. Charles knew that she was filing her mission report, although he also knew that there were things that she was deliberately leaving out, such as the location of their safe house. He had to admire that. She was putting protecting them in front of their job.

As soon as they radioed that they had Shaw in custody McCone had sent a retrieval squad. The squad had been incredibly nervous, a feeling that was only compounded at the sight that meant them when they got to the beach. He supposed that the sight of Erik and Lorna coming out of the sub, supporting each other and having metal cords binding Shaw and dragging him into the open, had been a bit much.

He'd quietly entered their minds and smoothed over the retrieval squad's disquiet. The trip back had been silent, but he'd noticed Lorna and Alex silently link hands. Erik had noticed it too. The two of them had shared a glance.

_Be gentle Erik,_ Charles thought, _Alex isn't the same boy who came into this program._

At first he'd thought that Erik wasn't going to respond. Then he'd thought back:

_And Lorna isn't the same girl._

It had been a quiet, tired thought, and Charles had chosen not to pursue. He knew that there was a lot going through his friend's mind, mostly about the decision he had made in the sub. He'd done the right thing, of course he had, but it had been a change of a determined policy, one that Erik had strongly believed to be the right one.

They had briefly discussed it on the trip back, a few hours later. Erik had been rather quiet, and Charles had kept telling him that he had been the better man and made the right choice. As such most of the details that Moira had told him had gone over his head.

There had been one thing that had stuck in his mind though.

"I've never heard of them," Charles said, "Are you sure they'd know how to kill him?"

"Trust me, they're on top of this sort of thing," Moira said, sounding tired, "The only reason we handled this and they didn't was because we were in too deep when they first heard about it. All I'm really allowed to say is that they were some of the top people back in World War II. It's one of the reasons they were able to arrange a tribunal so quickly."

She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the telephone.

"All things considered, it's probably best that treason still carries the death penalty," she said.

Charles didn't say anything: just looked at his watch. In two minutes Moira was going to receive a call that would tell them it was over. He was supposed to alert Erik when that happened. Somehow the victory seemed a little hollow. He'd saved Shaw from death at Erik's hands, only to have him delivered to the government.

"There would have been no rehabilitating him," Moira said.

"I know," Charles said.

It was true. There were some regrets, but he'd supposed that this would have always been the end. At least this way he could preserve the fragile balance of rage and serenity that his friend existed in for a little while longer.

Moira signed her name and put down her pen. She seemed to be considering something else, but then she picked up a manila envelope. That report would be going to headquarters soon, going to aid in a fight that they didn't have an active part in.

"The tribunal was secret," Moira said, "You know that, don't you?"

"I thought it might be. Considering the lack of TV reports I suppose that the world still doesn't know about mutants then?" he asked.

"McCone decided they weren't ready for it," said Moira, her voice rueful, "I smell Stryker in that one."

He nodded, and the phone rang. Charles stiffened and Moira picked up the phone.

"Agent MacTaggert," she said.

There was a slight pause.

"I see," she said.

Moira didn't look alarmed. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about how they had accomplished Shaw's execution.

"Right," she said, "Goodnight."

Moira hung up. Her eyes met his and he could see the same unspoken regret and anxiety he felt.

"It's over," she said.

Charles put two fingers to his temples.

Erik, Shaw's dead.

There were a few seconds of silence.

I'll tell Lorna.

The response was terse and hostile, more so than Charles had expected. Perhaps his own regrets were coming across to strongly. Charles severed the connection. He knew that the rest of the house would be celebrating that night, but he felt heavy somehow. A life, no matter how evil, had still been taken, an opportunity lost forever. He wondered how many of them saw that.

Maybe it was only the woman in front of him who did. Charles felt a lump in his throat. Now wasn't the time, but he needed to ask.

"What's going to become of us?" he asked.

"The government will be keeping some ties, just in case they need you again. A phone number or something," Moira said, not meeting his eyes, "But this whole thing is going to be classified top secret for at least thirty years. Probably fifty really."

"I know," Charles said, "I meant, well, us."

Moira stilled. She turned her head and looked at him, brown meeting blue. She looked away before taking out another manila envelope. She clutched its sides briefly.

"That depends," she said softly, "What are you all going to do now?"

"I'm...well, I'm thinking about turning this place into a school," Charles said, surprised, "I, um, I did well these past few weeks. We all did. I think that this might be my calling. If everyone wants to stay here, then I think that we can create something enduring, teaching mutants to use their powers for good. I want to prevent people like Shaw from doing what they did, from fearing the way they did. Education is the first step to destroying fear."

"You're quite the optimist," Moira said.

"I suppose so," said Charles.

He put his hands in his pockets, fully aware that Moira had not answered his question. He didn't know why, he barely knew her, but his heart was pounding faster and faster at the thought of her leaving. She would have to soon, and Virginia seemed far from New York. Would she be willing to continue on through letters when they had only had one kiss?

She placed the manila envelope on the table.

"My resignation is in that envelope," Moira said.

Charles started.

"What?" he asked.

"Charles, I joined the CIA knowing that it would be hard for a woman. For most of my career I've been trapped in the typing pool," she said, "But I thought that I could do something to...I don't know, help save the world. I had such lofty ideas when I was young. I've done that, but I've found something much more precious in the process."

She looked up at him again.

"I've found a new species that needs help," Moira said, "I've found remarkable people who are struggling to make that adjustment, to know right from wrong in a world of newly-found gray shades. I don't think that I can leave that behind, to give up this chance to be a part of something bigger than myself."

Her voice was frank and professional, but there was a spark of passion behind it all. It was what had drawn Charles to her in the first place.

"I am also fully-trained as a counselor, and that sounds like something that you'll need," she said.

"I'd say so," Charles said.

"But...right now that's not what you need. You'll need my help setting up an initial base to touch point with the CIA," said Moira, "In a few months, when this is settled, I think that you might need the counselor more."

She got up, resting her hand on the envelope briefly before walking up to him.

"That's where I think the world needs me," Moira said, "I know that precautions would have to be taken. I don't trust Stryker completely, and I don't think you do either."

She paused.

"And about the other things that you might be thinking about, well, I guess we'll just have to see what we want in a few months-"

"I know what I want," Charles interrupted, "You?"

Moira blinked once before laughing softly. One of her hands cupped the side of his face.

"Charles," she said, "You're forgetting something. I'm the one who kissed you the other night."

He joined in with her laughter, feeling much better than he had a few minutes ago.

* * *

Erik sat by Susanna's bed. Lorna sat to one side of him. Anya was seated in his lap, fast asleep. When they had come home, Anya had been curled up by his wife's side but fully awake. She had jumped up when they had come in, flinging herself into his arms. She was so small, and his actions on the beach had taught her a lesson that he couldn't take back.

Whether or not it had been the right lesson still troubled him.

"Shaw's dead," he said at last.

Lorna started, her eyes wide. He wondered if she, like Charles, saw some sort of difference in Shaw being killed by these SHIELD people instead of him. The only difference he saw is that they had delivered a mutant up to be killed by humans.

"Dad?" Lorna asked, "What now?"

He gave her a tight smile.

"We survive," he said, "And we go on."

Erik leaned back.

"In more practical terms, that means that Charles told me that he was thinking about turning this place into a school," Erik said, "He invited us to stay. I think that that would be best for all of us. It would be best for your education, and your mother can get the best treatment here. She'll have the best chance of waking up if we stay."

Lorna shifted.

"Dad, when I was fighting in the sub," she said, "Emma said..."

She looked down.

"What did Emma say?" Erik said.

Lorna swallowed.

"What did Emma say?" Erik repeated.

"She said that mom always felt like we thought she was weak," said Lorna, her words forced and uncofmortable, "Dad, I never meant to-"

"Emma's a liar," Erik said, his voice blank, "Your mother said that to me once, and I denied it. I told her that she was the strongest woman I'd ever met. She knew how we felt Lorna. Don't ever doubt that."

Lorna nodded. He had the feeling she wanted to say something else, but she didn't. Erik just gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand.

"She loved us all very much."

"I know," Lorna said.

Lorna closed her eyes. Erik stared back at his wife. Her face had borne the same expression for the past few months. He conjured up an image of her smile, just to remember that the woman next to him had once been a living, breathing creature.

"Dad, I have to tell you something else," she said.

"Yes?" Erik said, not looking away from Susanna.

"It's about Alex," she said.

Ah. So it was time for this conversation.

"I know that the two of you have something going on, if that's what you mean," Erik said.

Lorna started.

"I-"

"I'm not a fool Lorna," he said, "I saw you holding hands on the plane, and the again on the extraction team. I just didn't think it was time to say anything."

He looked at Lorna. Not so long ago Lorna had followed him to Hell and back. She'd fought Emma and then thought nothing of rushing to his aid to fight Shaw. She was a strong, capable young woman. Lorna was no longer the little girl who had held his hand and shown him their town when she found out he was her father.

If life with Susanna had taught him anything, it had taught him that you shouldn't waste your feelings.

"Are you sure that he's the one that you want?" he asked.

"I'm sure dad," Lorna said, "From what I've seen of relationships, and it's not much, you need to know your partner."

She shook her head.

"Hank and Raven didn't really know each other," she said, "It's why I don't think that they're together right now. But you and mom, you really knew each other. I can't say that I love Alex, I haven't known him for that long, but I feel such warmth when I think about him..."

Erik held her hand a little tighter. It was difficult to accept, but after what she had done by his side he knew that her judgment could be trusted.

"It feels right," Lorna said.

"I still don't like him," said Erik, "He still has to prove himself."

"You just don't know him yet," Lorna said, "Not really, and not like I do."

"Undoubtedly. But he should know that if he breaks your heart he's going to have to deal with me," Erik said, "And that boy wears a lot of metal. He also has two fillings."

"Sure dad, but only after I'm done with him," Lorna laughed.

She yawned and Erik leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

"You should go to bed," he said.

"I guess," she said.

Lorna got up, giving a lingering look at her mother. Erik kissed Anya's forehead gently before handing her to Lorna. She took her sister and gave him one last nod. The nod seemed to sum up what he couldn't quite articulate about that day.

He nodded back. When Lorna had left the room and closed the door he turned back to Susanna.

"I didn't kill him," Erik said, "Part of me regrets that already. He deserved more than a broken nose from my hands. It should have been me, not these government people. Give them an official title and suddenly it's all right and proper."

Erik picked up Susanna's hand. He traced her wedding band for what felt like the millionth time.

"Charles told me that I did the right thing," he said, "He said that I would have been embarking on a path from which there was no return."

He gave a half-shrug.

"Perhaps," he said, "But it wasn't a choice that I particularly liked. I just...if I was willing to try for you, then why shouldn't I try for our daughters? I felt like couldn't do this to them."

Erik could almost imagine the joy on Susanna's face when he said that. It would be wiped away in the next few seconds, but he held it close.

"I don't think I have it in me to do that again," Erik said, "I haven't forgiven Shaw. I never will, even if he is dead. I just...I don't know if I can make a choice that deep down I feel is the cowardly way out. I don't know if can just let evil like that go unpunished again."

He let go of Susanna's hand and got up.

"There is one thing I do know though," he said.

Erik leaned over and lightly kissed his wife's unresponsive lips. Tears smarted his vision, but he wouldn't cry.

"The next few years are going to be very difficult without you," he said.

He leaned up and, with a last look at Susanna, left the room.

* * *

_**A/N: **I've wanted to do a fic for a while where Lorna joins Erik in the fight against Shaw and how having a family would affect his perspective. Erik has always been very possessive and domineering, so I always thought that having something he cared about would definitely affect his fight against Shaw. _

_Susanna isn't really fleshed out in the comics. However, in these fics she's survived around ten years of marriage with Erik and given him two children. Given Erik's demons and strong personality, it's quite a feat for her to still be with him. Her personality and quiet strength has left fingerprints on her entire family, from Erik to her six-year-old daughter. Marks like that have trouble washing away, even when the person is no longer with you. _

_In the comics Lorna is Alex, or Havok's, longtime girlfriend. Some of my older readers will recognize that I love pairing them together: two strong-willed individuals in difficult situations coming together to make the best of things. In this fic it's clear to see that their respective home lives have made them who they are, as well as their silent beliefs about grief. We'll take a look at their evolving relationship in the next fic. _

_Speaking of the next fic, it's going to be called Fighting Destiny and will be an AU of the "X-men: Days of Future Past" plotline. It's going to take place six years after this fic, which is when the Vietnam peace talks first began. For those of you out there who have been asking, I promise that the twins will be making an appearance of some sort. _

_Now, for the shoutouts. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, including the people who had private messaging turned off so I couldn't respond to their posts. I would especially like to thank Princess-Amon-Rae, Drangy Smallfoot, Fanatic4Fiction, ZabuzasGirl, and Nicole R85 for being such constant reviewers! See you all in three weeks!_


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